


The Dark Sister

by TaylorMade



Category: Harry Potter - Fandom
Genre: AU, Good Bellatrix Black Lestrange, Multi
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-08-10
Updated: 2018-05-20
Packaged: 2018-12-13 17:03:13
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 13
Words: 42,075
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11764425
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TaylorMade/pseuds/TaylorMade
Summary: Once Upon a Time there were three sisters who lived with their father and mother in a magical, Pureblood home. Each sister was beautiful, though they differed greatly in both personality and appearance.The smartest of the three was tall and regal, with eyes that reflected the intelligence within. Her mind was her greatest weapon, and she wielded it well.The youngest and most dutiful was pale and delicate; she was fragile in a way men found desirable, but strong when inner strength was needed. She was patient and observant, and she used these traits to guide her.Then there was the last sister - the dark sister. She was fierce and fearless and she had a great talent for deception. All who crossed her path called her power-crazy or mad. However, none knew of the light that shone within - none, that is, but those few who had earned her hard-won trust...





	1. Prologue: The Bridal Shower

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks to AlphaWailingWolf for helping me edit and fine tune this very, very old fanfic. Hopefully, this will jump start my batteries.
> 
> And also, thank you for all the recent support in regards to Branwyn and other personal things in my life. You've proven yourself a true friend. So I am retroactively dedicating my favorite OC - Kipsy the House Elf - to you.
> 
> The non-con in this story will not be graphic, but it's an element in this story. Every chapter with non-con will be clearly marked at the beginning.

The calm of the evening had been disturbed almost an hour ago within the walls of the old, elaborate house that belonged to the Blacks. Two of the three sisters huddled together in the darkened upstairs hallway by their bedrooms, hoping that the sleeping portraits would remain quiet. The last thing they needed was to be told by a dead ancestor that it was rude to eavesdrop. The two sisters - one pale and the other dark - sat silently with their backs pressed hard against the wall, as if they could melt through it and hide in the event that someone came storming up to the second floor.

A door slammed downstairs followed by quick, harsh footsteps. Angry voices - only two now rather than four - filtered up the staircase, only partially muffled by the turn the steps made halfway up. As quietly as she could, Bellatrix Black crossed the hall to the window and peeked out - just in time to watch the third sister, Andromeda, and her Muggle-born boyfriend Disapparate. Bellatrix's hand went unconsciously to her mouth. She knew what had just transpired and what was likely to follow, partly thanks to the scraps she had heard of the shouted conversation that had just concluded, and partly thanks to experience and instinct. Her mind racing, she slowly began to creep down to the ground floor only to be stopped by a desperate hiss.

 _"Bella!"_ Narcissa's harsh, desperate whisper was understandable, but unwelcome.

"Not now!" Bella whispered back.

"Bella, please, they'll hear you!" the younger girl pleaded, tugging on her sister's sleeve.

Bellatrix ignored her and with a silent, practiced step moved down into the parlor by her father's study undetected. Her parents continued their indignant exchange inside as Bella took refuge in her usual spot behind the sofa. Her hands mechanically traced the rich, soft fabric of the couch as she carefully settled herself into the best position from which to listen.

"Marrying a Mudblood!" Father fumed. "After all we've taught her! After all the _work_ we did to raise her properly!"

"I've been concerned for that girl ever since she was sorted into Ravenclaw," Mother said. "Brains are one thing, but without some basic common sense - !" There was a sigh before she continued. "She'll be on the streets in no time at all. We certainly can't let her come back _here_. It would set a terrible example for the other two."

 _The other two..._ Bellatrix's face twisted into a sneer. That's all they were? _'The other two'?_ not sisters or daughters or young women - certainly not people! - just _'the other two'._

"Something must be done, Druella, to ensure this doesn't happen again," Father was saying.

Bellatrix's heart sank, though this was the information she'd been trying to uncover. Andromeda's defiant departure would certainly have repercussions for Narcissa and Bellatrix. But how would they be punished for their sister's transgression?

"What do you have in mind?" Mother sighed.

"Well," Father began in his most reasonable tone - the one that never boded well for his children. "What if we take care of their arrangements for them?"

Her heart stopped; Bellatrix was sure of it. Her knees would have given way if she hadn't been huddling on the floor already. Her stomach turned suddenly, threatening to reject her supper. But she couldn't go back upstairs to Narcissa - not yet. Perhaps Mother would object on their behalf. Perhaps Mother -

"Set them up in proper marriages?" Mother mused, and Bella's last hope was crushed. "It's a bit old-fashioned, but the idea has merit."

"It _could_ work, couldn't it..." Father's smile could damn near be heard.

"Yes, Cygnus, it might at that. But, we have to be careful with this as well... We have to approach it in just the right way... Let's see now, first things first... Which Pureblood families have sons close enough to their ages to prevent the girls from balking?"

There was no reason to listen anymore. As silently as she came down, Bellatrix crawled back up the stairs on all fours. She didn't trust her legs to hold her; she barely made it to Narcissa's room - where her sister had taken refuge in case Bellatrix had been caught - before the tears came.

Narcissa - frightened now, for her sister never cried - sank to the floor in front in Bellatrix. Her face was a mask of desperation and dread. She gripped the older girl's shoulders, tried to speak but no sound emerged.

"They're planning our weddings, Cissy," Bellatrix said in a hollow voice. "Right down to our grooms, they're planning our weddings..."

Narcissa only stared, unable to process the impact of that statement or the night's events, while Bellatrix's unsettled meal made its reappearance.

(:)

Hours later, Bellatrix lay awake in her bed.

Kipsy, her favorite house elf, had wiped the vomit off her face and scrubbed her clean. Bellatrix wondered distantly what the little elf thought about changing her limp, unprotesting mistress into her nightgown and tucking her into bed like a child. Kipsy must have feared Bella was feeling vulnerable because she'd dug out a favorite childhood toy - Bellatrix's stuffed cat - and put it on Bellatrix's pillow. Bella took the cat and hugged it to her chest like a talisman. Then the witch let her thoughts drift toward her shattered plans for the future.

 _'I'll never be allowed to marry you, my love,'_ Bellatrix thought, choking back a sob. _'Pureblood or no, they'll never add you to that list they're preparing, even if you_ are _a Morgan. Should I offer up your name myself, the consequences for both of us would be dire. And if I run away, Narcissa will pay the price...'_

In the corner of the room, Kipsy the elf hid in the shadows and watched as her poor mistress cried herself to sleep.

(:)

 _'Mother and Father work fast,'_ Bellatrix thought numbly.

It was the next day, early in the afternoon, and two Pureblood families stood before them in the parlor with their single, age-appropriate sons. Lucius Malfoy had graciously kissed Narcissa's hand and Cissy had curtsied dutifully - both of them the picture of politeness.

When Rodolphus LeStrange had seen this, he'd attempted to mimic the action with Bellatrix. Now he was cradling his possibly-broken fingers as discreetly as he could. After the LeStrange boy's false attempt to woo her, Bellatrix had sprawled out on the same sofa she'd crouched behind the night before. She was very deliberately taking up both cushions, denying these _proper Purebloods_ any opportunity to sit by her and play at flirtation.

Mother's piercing glare was easy enough to ignore. She'd had plenty of practice, after all. Bellatrix fixed her usual, bored scowl on her face and pretended to ignore the conversation around her. The boys were both familiar to her, of course. The two of them had been in Slytherin House at Hogwarts along with Bella and Cissy. She knew Malfoy to be a snob and LeStrange to be an idiot and a brute. Of course, neither was her type. She would be unable to pursue anyone who was actually her "type" and remain on her Aunt Walburga's tapestry of the family tree.

"They're both of them good girls," Father was saying, trying not to look at his eldest daughter, who had taken to making a show of filing her nails. "Narcissa is very talented musically and Bellatrix, while high-spirited, is excellent with horses and other animals. She also - "

"I thought you had _three_ daughters, Black," Rodolphus' father interrupted. "Where's the other one?"

"Andromeda has - " Mother began, but it was Bellatrix's turn to interrupt.

" _The other one_ , as you put it," she began contemptuously, rising swiftly to her feet and abandoning her pretense of total disinterest. "Has actually managed to escape this little auction by running off to marry a Mudblood. She has both set herself free and exiled herself from this house in one fell swoop. I'm not certain whether to pity her or be envious."

Narcissa stifled a gasp. It was hardly unusual for Bellatrix to be defiant or challenge their parents, but it was the first time she'd been so openly hostile. Father stared at her, disapproving and angry while Mother began to swell up; a totally new level of rage was about to explode from _her_. While mildly surprised at her own tone, Bellatrix was not sorry, not afraid. She felt justified enough, in fact, to return her mother's wrathful gaze, silently challenging the older woman to start a scene in front of their _most dignified_ guests. Mother was reaching to draw her wand, but Bella was faster. They would have begun dueling right there in the parlor, but for the laugh that caught them all off guard.

"Spirited indeed!" Rodolphus' father said. "She's perfect! I'll certainly take her for my son!"

_'Take her?'_

_**'TAKE HER?!'** _

With one last burst of rage, Bellatrix abandoned spell work and punched both Rodolphus and his father, knocking each of them to the floor. Rodolphus stared after her, shocked, while the renewed laughter of his father followed her as she stormed up the stairs.

For the second time in as many nights, Bellatrix cried herself to sleep with a toy cat on her pillow and a worried elf keeping silent vigil from the darkest corner of the room.


	2. Interlude One: Clandestine Honesty

Nearly a month had passed since Bellatrix and Narcissa had first met with their husbands-to-be.... And while Cissy seemed to be absorbed ever more deeply into a web of dresses, cakes, guest lists and menus, Bella was wrapping herself tightly into a cloak of iron-clad resolve. It took a week for her to gather the courage to send Kipsy to Andromeda with a message to meet her at Honesty Pointe, but it had to be done eventually if her new plans were to succeed.

Honesty Pointe was a little clearing at the top of a bluff with a magnificent view. The three sisters had found it years ago, as children, and used it as their own special place - a place where no secrets could exist between them, hence the name. It was the very first time only two sisters would be present here for a meeting.

It was cold that morning and the shawl Bellatrix had brought with her was not thick enough by far. The wind on the bluff cut through her, chilled by the ocean that churned below. Still, she stood tall, gazing over the cliff and down at the rocks, watching the spray of the sea break over the jagged terrain.

It must have taken Kipsy awhile to find her, but finally Andromeda arrived. Footsteps, sharp and hurried, pounded on the ground, breaking twigs and crushing leaves as Bellatrix's younger sister tore through the brush surrounding the clearing. She must have run the whole way up; her face was flushed. She looked terribly worried, upset.

"I came as soon as I got your message," she said, gasping for air. "They _can't_ make you marry anyone. Forced engagements aren't _legal_ anymore. You know that. What's this about, Bella? For God's sake, the worst they can do is disown you! Just go to the Morgans' and forget about the _Noble House of Black!_ "

"It isn't about me," Bellatrix said quietly. "It's Cissy. She's agreed to marry Malfoy. She's _happy_ about it... But she has no idea what she's getting mixed up in, Andy."

Andromeda went very still. "What do you mean?"

"I mean that I sent my elf to follow them," Bellatrix said with a short, humorless laugh. "Kipsy _followed_ Malfoy and LeStrange for me. They're both of them in deep with You-Know-Who - right in his inner circle. If I don't agree to do this, I'll be disowned and there will be no one left to protect our baby sister."

Andromeda shook her head anxiously, almost numbly. "No," she said. "No, Bella, you c-can't! There's got to be another way. The Morgans are connected, powerful! They - "

" - Can't make her fall out of love with that monster," Bellatrix cut in gently. "I've discussed this with them. It's been agreed."

Andromeda was crying now. For weeks, Bellatrix had wanted to be angry with her, had wanted to blame her for everything that was happening, but she couldn't maintain it. Andromeda hadn't wanted this. She'd only wanted a life of her own. How could Bellatrix fault her for that?

"Agreed?" Andy pressed, her voice quivering. Bella nodded.

"They told me they were proud of me," she said. She was trying hard not to cry herself and she feared her voice betrayed her, but she was still able to hold her head high and smile a genuine smile as well. "Proud... Proud to have me for a daughter and... And proud of my resolve to defend our family... They told me I'm a Morgan. And that nothing will change that."

Andromeda was forcibly wiping her tear-streaked face, making herself hold it all together. "Bella, are you sure about this?" She asked. "And if you've already decided, then why send for me?"

"Because, Andy, I need you to find someone to be my contact," Bellatrix said. "Someone the Pureblood families and You-Know-Who's followers won't suspect me of knowing. A member of this Order you told me about or an Auror, maybe. Someone I can pass information to... Can you do that?"

Her sister's intelligent eyes had hardened now, her mind set to the task at hand. She would deal with the emotions later. Still, her voice was soft and quiet with sentiment when she spoke again. "I can. But, Bella... Oh, _Bella_... Please, promise me you'll be careful."

"As careful as I can be without abandoning Cissy," Bellatrix nodded. "Call for Kipsy when you've got my contact lined up. She'll be listening for you."

Neither of them had ever been openly affectionate, preferring to tease lightly and bring up mildly embarrassing past events as means of expressing fondness. But now it was magnetic, and the sisters pulled each other close and held on tight, dreading the moment when they would finally be forced to let each other go. It was impossible to know when or if they would ever come together again, but Bellatrix had a heartsick feeling that their whispered _I love yous_ were probably going to be a final goodbye.


	3. Chapter One: Marital Bliss

Six months had passed.

Obedient as ever, Narcissa had married Lucius Malfoy, and - as her eldest sister had suspected - the poor, sweet girl was delighted about it. Certainly, there was no accounting for taste. Either that or Narcissa had seen his handsome features and proven herself far more shallow than Bellatrix would ever have guessed her to be.

Now it was her turn. Bellatrix was locked in a dressing room with Kipsy, staring dully at her reflection in the large, ornate mirror of the vanity that sat against the wall. Her elf was standing on a little ladder, fighting back sobs as she busied herself with Bella's hair. But the witch's eyes were dry now; she'd run out of tears.

"Not fair!" Kipsy squeaked angrily. "Not fair marrying Kipsy's mistress off to that - that - that - " Apparently, Kipsy couldn't find an insult strong enough and ended in a frustrated squeal that almost made Bella smile.

"Not fair," the elf whispered now. "Not fair when Mistress Bella is in love with a Morgan. A Morgan is better than a LeStrange, Kipsy thinks. Far better for Kipsy's Mistress Bella..."

"You're the best elf that ever lived, Kipsy," Bellatrix said quietly. It was the first time she'd spoken all day. "And the best friend, too. I'm so very luck you're mine."

Kipsy sniffled and bravely patted Bellatrix on the shoulder.

"Mistress looks very nice," the elf managed. "Very pretty. _Too_ pretty for LeStrange..."

Bellatrix shifted before the mirror. The dress was rich and elegant and flowed around Bella's body nicely. The white silk and satin, studded here and there with real diamonds, sparkled under the light.

"This is a nightmare..." Bella told the elf softly. "For both of us..."

"Both of us, Miss?" Kipsy was blushing. Bella managed a sad smile.

"If I can't marry the person I love, then we both lose, don't we?" Bella sighed. "If you come with me, it will be hard for you to see Tilly - "

"And if Kipsy does not come, Kipsy will worry for her Mistress Bella," the elf finished firmly. "Kipsy loves Tilly, but Kipsy will not leave Mistress Bella alone. Even if - " Kipsy gulped as if afraid, but went on quickly and defiantly. "Even if Mistress Bella orders Kipsy to go to the Morgans' to be with Tilly right now!" Kipsy squeaked, clapped both hands over her mouth, and flinched as if expecting a blow.

Bellatrix laughed softly and hugged Kipsy close. "The very best friend..."

With a sigh, Bella looked again to the mirror. This was likely the best she'd ever looked in her entire life. The fact that she was dressed this way for _him_ was almost more than she could endure. Kipsy seemed to mirror her thoughts closely.

"Should be a funeral dress," the elf grumbled as she descended her ladder. "Since they're making Kipsy's mistress marry a vampire..."

"You know, that's not a bad idea," Bella mused, pulling her wand from her sleeve. It just took a bit of magic for her dress to begin to change. The silk and satin turned to heavy velvet. White morphed into black and the sparkling diamonds became blood red rubies. Bella's make-up darkened as well, right down to her French-tip manicure. Everything was black and red.

Kipsy's eyes lit up. "Oh, Mistress!" She exclaimed. She even clapped. "Now you can save the white dress for your _real_ wedding!"

"I hope so," Bella replied. She studied her spell work, looking for imperfections. "But I have a feeling I may not live that long. These are dark times... And if my unwelcome groom is what I suspect he is, I may be in a position to help - but only if I make certain... sacrifices."

"Sacrifices, Mistress?" Kipsy fretted.

"A bit like the one you're making for me," Bella confirmed. She turned away from the mirror to face Kipsy. "You know, I could order you to Apparate me out of here, to take me to Morgan Manor... In fact, if I don't I'm basically consenting to this marriage. But... If I play along with this dark uprising, if I pretend to be the sort of Pureblood my parents want me to be, I might be able to get some information to someone who can use it."

"And... What will that _cost_ Kipsy's mistress?"

"I don't know," the witch admitted. "I've already lost Andromeda and Narcissa to their new husbands and my own freedom to LeStrange. I'll probably lose contact with the love of my life because of this stupid arrangement. All I know for certain that I'll have left after today will be you and me."

"Well," the elf said, struggling to be courageous. She stood as tall as her diminutive form would allow. "If we are ever to lose Kipsy and Mistress Bella as well.... Then we shall lose Kipsy and Mistress Bella to a good fight."

Bella was about to say something more, but the door suddenly flew open. Druella Black appeared, looking livid, and Kipsy shrank back into the shadows and Disapparated. Bella's expression hardened instantly.

"Bellatrix!" Mother snapped. "It's _past_ time for you to - " The older witch stopped short, sputtering, and gestured wildly to the transformed dress. "Wh-what is _this_?"

"A dress appropriate for the occasion," Bella replied haughtily, and with that, the unwilling bride stormed past her mother toward the wedding hall. She stopped short of the door. No one could see her yet, but from here, Bella could see the white hall and the soft lavender flowers. Elegant silk covered each chair, and soft purple and white petals carpeted the aisle. The alter was stunning, draped in white and trimmed in purple and silver. All the guests - invited by her parents and the groom's family - were elegantly dressed and conversed quietly while they waited for the bride to arrive and for the ceremony to begin. Muted light filtered down through the crystal chandeliers from the ceiling, and tiny floating candles formed pretty, elaborate patterns in the air above the crowd. The entire room was the picture perfect setting for a beautiful, love-filled ceremony.

It was a mockery.

Luckily, Bella wasn't the only one who thought so. Peeking out from behind a heavy drape that hung over a nearby window, Kipsy snapped her fingers, and, seeing this, Bella smiled warmly, just for a moment. She could sense her little friend's intentions and took a step onto the aisle, right on cue.

Sure enough, as the bride walked down to meet her groom, the decor transformed in her wake. White turned to black and the delicate purple blossoms turned to dark red roses. The lights began to glow with an eerie ruby light and the candles suddenly had taken on a bloody hue. Ghostly drops of red fell like rain from their flames; they stained nothing, but frightened nearly everyone. Bellatrix walked tall and proud, looking superior and disdainful. She smiled a dangerous smile when she reached Rodolphus. Her eyes promised him tortures he had never before imagined...

...and he flinched, just slightly.

 _'I can do this,'_ Bella thought. She let her eyes meet his, let him see the revulsion she had for him. _'I can beat you and your lot. And then, perhaps, someday... Someday I'll be free. But even if it kills me, I will not let you win.'_

Throughout the ceremony, Rodolphus LeStrange looked as though he might bolt; run away and never look back. That would have suited Bella just fine. She did her best to look intimidating, dangerous, deadly. However Rodolphus must have feared his father more than he did his wife-to-be, because he stood his ground. Perhaps, like her, his parents had promised to use the Killing Curse on him if he backed out.

 _'I'll just have to make certain that he's the one trapped with me,'_ she thought. Her mind was racing with plans now. _'Yes, I'll make_ him _the prisoner rather than allowing the roles to be reversed...'_

The officiator was asking if she would take him as her husband now. She let out a cruel laugh.

"If I've no other choice," she said in a low, harsh tone that no one behind her could hear.

"Miss Black - " the officiator whispered. She looked at him for the first time, and found herself amused that he'd turned so very pale. "That's really not - "

"It's as close to a 'yes' as you're going to get from me," she hissed. The man swallowed hard and backed up a step. "Take it or leave it."

He took it.

What a bloody shame.

(:)

She held her snarling attitude throughout the reception and well into the evening. She had even managed to intimidate Cygnus during the father/daughter dance her mother had insisted on. By the end of the day, no one wanted to cross her. Apparently Narcissa was not immune to her mood either; although none of her eldest sister's behavior was aimed towards her, she seemed to be walking on eggshells.

Her new husband - or more likely his father - had rented a nice beach house for the honeymoon. It reminded Bella of the beach near Honesty Pointe and the memory was unwelcome. It would do her no good to dwell on her last meeting with Andromeda, no good to worry that she would be unable to protect her youngest sister without Andy's help...

The inside of the house was better, less distracting. The creamy yellow walls and nautical decor were not to her taste, but at least it didn't conjure up memories of three very young sisters exchanging their little girl secrets at the top of their "private" bluff. It didn't make her think about how desperately alone she suddenly was in the world.

Rodolphus walked in behind her, and she was able to focus again. Bellatrix planned to use this week to teach him the new rules he would be expected to follow. It was very important to take charge immediately or else she might be at his mercy from now on. The sooner she established her dominance, the better. No time like the present.

"If you light that vile thing in my house or in my presence, I'll put it out on your tongue," she informed him blandly when he started to smoke.

"It's _my_ house," he replied indifferently and drew a long puff from his newly-lit cigar.

Bella smiled viciously. It was too perfect. This was not a weak man she'd been chained to. Stupid, yes, but strong. And evil enough to follow Lord Voldemort, which was the only thing that made him valuable enough to spare, at least for the moment.

Yes. He would be her way in. All she had to do was play along for awhile. Surely there would be someone willing to hear her out and take whatever she could learn from this dark wizard to the authorities. Andromeda wouldn't let her down. Maybe when it was all over, she could divorce this pig and reclaim her life - and her true status as a Morgan.

But first, she had to prove herself strong enough and worthy enough and insane enough to join his despicable little club. She advanced on Rodolphus, snatched his cigar from his hand, and backed him up against the wall.

"Think I'm bluffing, do you?" She challenged. Their faces were inches apart. "Think I don't mean it?"

Rodolphus tried to push past her, not even bothering to reach for his wand. No doubt he didn't think he'd need it against her. Typical chauvinist male... Unfortunately for him, Bella was fast and strong. She caught his arm and hooked his knee with her foot. He tried, too late, to draw his wand on her. With just a slight twist, he was down, pinned beneath her with one arm behind his back. His wand was lost somewhere between his body and the floor. He had no defense against her. Bella sat on him, pinned his free arm with her knee, pried open his mouth, and shoved the lit end of the cigar down hard against his tongue. The smell of seared flesh filled her nose as he screamed.

"I don't bluff, Rodolphus," she whispered in his ear. He cried out in pain, which she chose to think was his way of assuring her that he was listening carefully. "And if you truly wish to serve the Dark Lord, then I suggest you learn to fight with something more than just your wand. If you lose it, or if it's taken from you, you'll be as defenseless against a common Muggle as you are against me right now."

She pushed off the floor, allowing him to rise to his feet, though she was careful not to turn her back on him. She flicked her wand and a medicated potion flew to her hand from the pantry. It was probably meant for sunburn, but it would serve the purpose.

"That should heal the burn," she told him, tossing it to him.

It took several moments for him to recover, but when he did, he looked more curious than angry. Bellatrix kept a bored expression, lazy and cat-like. Rodolphus was intrigued. He took a few steps toward her and she held her ground. She seemed completely unconcerned - not at all worried that he might seek revenge.

"What do _you_ know about the Dark Lord?" He asked.

"Not enough," she said, almost dismissively. Then she shrugged. "Just that you must be on his side if my family wanted your family to agree to a marriage. And I know I want to be useful. That's important."

"Is it?" He chuckled. His eyes narrowed slightly and he crossed his arms, studying her. "Let me get this straight... You go out of your way to offend your parents at every turn. You break my father's nose. You break my fingers, my jaw... You turn our entire wedding stark black. You sneer at the officiator, making it obvious that you don't want to marry me. You terrify _everyone_ at our reception with your attitude and your behavior. You've got an elf who _insists_ on calling me 'Master Vampire' - "

"Does she?" Bella asked, slightly surprised. She considered that for a moment. "Hm. I'll have to do something nice for her..."

" - You say things like _that!_ " He continued with a mirthless laugh. "And you burn my tongue with my own cigar before telling me we're on the same side. Why should I believe that, Bellatrix?"

"You want to know what to believe?" She countered. "Believe that I will never love you and that this marriage is an insult to me. I love someone else. But that person is currently beyond my reach because of this wedding. I _hate_ your father for insulting me and treating me like a commodity. I'm furious with _you_ for not standing up to him for _both_ our sakes. And I protested the wedding because I don't think it's necessary for me to marry you just to help the Dark Lord. _That_ explains my behavior and attitude. But we're trapped together now, Rodolphus, like it or not. So I have a proposal I hope we can both live with."

"I'm listening."

"We publicly pretend to be the married couple our families want us to be," she said. "But we keep to business otherwise. We work together for the Dark Lord; we uphold the morals we were taught as true, proper Purebloods. And we agree to an understanding that should one of us wish to pursue a romantic relationship outside our marriage, it is of _no_ concern to the other."

He blinked. "Are you - Are you... Giving me permission to have an affair?"

"As many as you like," she said firmly. Then she held up a finger and wagged it at him. "But that means - "

"It means that you'll be allowed to run around with your boyfriend, fine, fine..." he finished for her. Then he leered at her. "Though, it will be quite a shame to share a body like yours with another man."

Her laugh turned poisonous.

" _Share_ me?" She purred. "Oh, Rodolphus... You still don't understand... Any part of your body that touches me without my consent will be broken, maimed, or both." She glanced pointedly downward and whispered, "And I _do_ mean _any_ part..."

His eyes narrowed. "You're not going to give me consent? My own wife?"

"Never," she snarled. "And I'm not your _real_ wife, anyway."

"No?"

"No. When I was asked, I didn't say _'I do'_."

"So what do you want from me?"he asked, relenting reluctantly.

"An audience with the Dark Lord."

Her voice was confident, firm, unwavering, and there was no hesitation. He laughed; a good long, hard laugh. It might have caused a lesser person to second-guess herself. But _she_ was a Morgan, and she had a mission. She remained steady, waiting calmly and patiently for him to focus on her once again. His eyes danced over her implacable expression.

"Very well," he finally sneered. His tone said that he didn't think she knew what she was really asking for. "A dance with the devil it is."


	4. Interlude Two: The Agent

Alice was her name. Alice Longbottom.

Bellatrix vaguely remembered the woman from Hogwarts, but she didn't actually know her. Still, Longbottom was a Pureblood. If ever they were caught talking together, Bella could say she was trying to influence the woman to join their cause. Andromeda had done her job well.

The rather petite, round-faced witch sat, pretending to read, in the spot where they were to meet - a simple park bench at a Muggle playground. (Bella hadn't been able to bear the thought of contaminating the far more private Honesty Pointe with this nasty business.) The large, old-fashioned bag with the bright red scarf tied to it was the signal that this was indeed her contact, and Bella cautiously approached. She sat down and leaned back as if she were tired - not much of an act, really; the honeymoon had been nothing but a battleground. Rodolphus felt the need to test her resolve at every turn. It had taken an enormous effort to stay on top of him and better him each time he pushed her, but she had managed. Kipsy was following him now, and would warn her if he got within two blocks of her location. If he asked later, she would simply tell him she'd met with her lover.

"I don't suppose you have a prophesy in there that will tell me this is all going to work out, do you?" Bella asked, nodding to Alice's bag.

"Sorry," Alice smiled gently. Then she turned a page to make it look as if they weren't talking. "I wish I _could_ give you a guarantee. But if you're offering to become a double agent for me, there will definitely be danger involved. But I think you're more aware of the risks than I am, aren't you?"

Alice chanced a sideways glance at Bella with eyes that were filled with sympathy. Bella didn't quite know what to do with that. She came from a wealthy family; she'd had the best and latest of everything her entire life... She wasn't used to people feeling sorry for her.

"How much has Andromeda told you?"

"She told me you've been illegally married off," Alice said. There was a slight edge in her voice, disapproval. "She told me you could've escaped, but didn't in order to protect your other sister and because of the position it put you in. And she told me she thinks you're half mad for even entertaining the idea of attempting to do what you're attempting to do. Are you certain you can get into You-Know-Who's inner circle?"

"Yes," Bella nodded confidently. "My _dear_ husband has set up a meeting for me later this week. And I'm good at manipulation. I can get in."

"You should know, we suspect You-Know-Who to be a fair hand at Legilimency," Alice warned. "If he tries to invade your mind - "

"Don't worry," Bella waved her off. "My mother's an expert Legilimens, so I became an expert at _Occlumency_ at a disturbingly young age. If he can get into _my_ mind, we're in more trouble than anyone knows."

"And," Alice said. "In exchange for all of this... What is it you expect from me?"

Bellatrix shrugged. "I don't know, really. Immunity for myself and Narcissa, I suppose. I've no idea what we'll be ordered to do, but I'm certain it will be illegal. And if we don't do it, we'll be killed, so..." She paused, thinking. "And... When all this is over, when we've managed to defeat them... I want the marriage to LeStrange annulled, erased. Understand?"

"It's certainly not much to ask for," Alice nodded, but she didn't look appeased. Something was nagging her; Bella could see it, and waited for one moment, two...

"Why?" The Auror finally asked, giving up the pretense of studying her book.

"Why what?"

"Why do this? Why risk your life this way?"

"You don't think inside information will be useful?" Bellatrix asked, raising an eyebrow at the Auror. "Someone _has_ to do it if we're going to come out of all this with our world intact."

"Yes," Alice agreed. "But what is it that makes you think that person should be _you?_ "

"Because," Bella snapped impatiently. " _I'm_ the one who's been married off to one of his followers. _I'm_ the one in a position to get in and do the job. Because there is nothing that can _stop_ me from doing the job anyway - on account of how _I'm_ the one with a sister to protect and a life to regain. Because, quite frankly, _I'm_ the one who _can_. Is there anyone else who can say that?"

Alice considered her, finally looking satisfied. "No," she said, "No one else can sat that. I'm sorry, Bellatrix, but if I didn't ask and you changed your mind later... Well, you can imagine the position that would put _me_ in... I had to test your resolve - as well as your sincerity."

Bellatrix paused. She hadn't considered the risk from her contact's point of view. "You're right," she said softly as the realization hit her. "You're right; it could have been a trap. I didn't even think of it." She put her face in her hands and wearily pulled her hair back away from her face. She took a deep breath and released it slowly. "I've been so... So _focused_ on keeping Narcissa safe and on maintaining the upper hand with Rodolphus... I just... " She shook her head in dismay. "I just never contemplated the possibility that someone might..."

"Use an Auror to feed false information to the Ministry," Alice finished. "Would you be willing to take Veritaserum if I asked you?"

Bella didn't hesitate. "Of course I will. Right now, if you like. Whenever you need me to."

"All right," Alice nodded. "That's good enough for me."

"So," Bella said after another long pause. "How do we begin?"


	5. Chapter Two: A Waltz in Hell

It was almost time. Bellatrix was about to step through a door and meet Voldemort in person. Her skin was tingling; her heart, pounding. If she could just jump this first hurdle, her chances of surviving would increase dramatically. This little dance would be a careful one and she couldn’t show any weakness. The first meeting would be the basis on which she would build her new undercover persona and gather intelligence for the Ministry and the Order of the Phoenix. But, of course, only Alice would know that it was Bellatrix spying on Voldemort’s inner circle.

 _‘One step at a time…’_ she told herself. _‘If I can just get past this first meeting…Well, that should be enough for today.’_

She walked in side-by-side with Rodolphus, unwilling to allow him go in first and make it appear as if he were in control of her. That wouldn’t do. Bella had to make sure Voldemort saw her as a separate, strong agent, able to stand on her own. She couldn’t look as if she were relying on her husband. If it seemed as if she was subservient to him in any way, any information she got would come second-hand; no better than rumor – and that was unacceptable. To bolster the impression that she was independent from LeStrange, she walked just a step or two faster, putting herself slightly ahead of him, as if she couldn’t wait to meet the master of hell and become his most faithful servant.

The meeting hall was large, but strikingly empty. She had expected a table, seats for those assembled, but there was nothing but the bare walls lined with people. _He_ was there, standing tall and thin at the head of the group with his back to the room, facing a wall. That struck her as odd. He made her think of a painter, staring at a blank canvas as if trying to decide what image belonged there. Except she knew that this man was unlikely to create anything she wanted to see.

From the moment they Apparated here, Bellatrix had kept her mind under lock and key, unwilling to let a single stray thought pass through. Control was something she was good at. She would use that to her advantage; to keep him out and to keep him curious. She would manipulate her own actions to make herself look devoted and she could still plot ways to destroy him. Compartmentalization, that’s what Andromeda had once called it. Whatever the term, Bella was going to put her talent for it to the ultimate test.

Rodolphus bowed low and she did the same, but used the shiny marble floor as a mirror to watch this dark wizard who had the entire magical world in an uproar. He didn’t look like anything special to Bella. But then, while quite remarkable, Kipsy didn’t look terribly impressive either. Bella knew better than to fall into that trap. His unnaturally white skin and long limbs gave her the impression of an albino snake. She’d heard he was a Parselmouth. Had he done this to himself deliberately?

It was a very long moment before anyone spoke. Bella and Rodolphus did not rise, and the handful of Death Eaters assembled did not stray from their positions along the walls. Bella did not dare glance at them, not yet. She was fixated on the image of the pale wizard reflected in front of her shoes on the floor.

“Who have you brought me, Rodolphus?” the dark wizard finally spoke without turning around. “Someone to serve us or someone to kill?”

“My Lord,” Rodolphus said without rising. “This is my new bride, Bellatrix.”

Voldemort turned then, looked at her for the first time. Bella wasn’t shaking, wasn’t afraid, but she didn’t look up either. She had to be strong, but without challenging his authority. She would wait until he spoke to her.

“Get up, my dear, pretty lady,” Voldemort said. “There is no need for a Pureblood like you to hunker in the floor like an elf.”

He was superficially charming, but there was no true warmth in his voice. Bella wasn’t fooled for a moment, though she stood and smiled at him. It was time to play her part.

 _‘Just another dance, Bella,’_ she told herself. _‘Just follow the music…’_

“Thank you, My Lord,” she said, and waited again.

“Your husband tells me you were quite interested in making my acquaintance, Mrs. LeStrange,” Voldemort said.

“Yes, My Lord,” she replied. “And, please, call me Bella.”

“Bella,” he repeated, smiling. “And why were you so eager to meet with me, Bella?”

“I wish to serve you, My Lord,” she told him, daring to take a single step toward him. “I can hardly sit on the sidelines with what’s at stake, after all. Any small part I might play in protecting what is rightfully ours… Well, My Lord, I couldn’t pass it up, could I?”

Voldemort said nothing, considering her. The Occlumency she’d learned was coming in handy. She could feel him prying at the corners of her defenses, but she knew he would never break through. He must have realized it as well, because his expression changed to reveal a new degree of curiosity and respect. She carefully acted out her part, trying to make her eyes sparkle happily, as if she were overjoyed to be in his presence. She’d studied all about micro expressions (the little facial expressions most people never consciously notice) with Alice and she did her best to make her face and body language tell the story she wanted them to. That should make up for what he couldn’t see in her head.

“And where did the lady learn to safe-guard her mind so well?” he asked.

“Safe-guard – ?” Bella started, pretending not to understand, but then she continued as if she’d just caught his drift. “Oh, the Occlumency… I have a very nosy mother, My Lord. Unnaturally nosy, should the truth be told… I’m afraid it’s a bit of a habit. Besides, you never know who might be trying to pry. It’s really no different than locking the door before I leave home.”

“You have a very interesting wife, Rodolphus,” Voldemort smiled. “And where exactly do you expect to fit in my organization, Bella?”

“Wherever My Lord wishes to place me,” Bella replied, knowing what she was saying was a potentially dangerous response, but hoping a show of boldness would pay off. “I prefer to be on your right hand, but I understand that such things must be earned.”

“And you’re willing to earn them?”

“Give me a task, My Lord,” she said quickly. “Any task. I’ll prove myself.” A nasty smile crossed her face. “And I keep my promises. You can ask Rodolphus and his tongue.”

Rodolphus shot her a nasty look, and Voldemort must have seen the memory flash through her husband’s mind because he was suddenly laughing. The Dark Lord met Bella’s gaze and nodded.

“I like her, Rodolphus,” he said. “Very well, my dear. You shall have your task soon enough. For now, take your place along the wall, and take your husband with you.”

“Yes, My Lord,” she said, and this time the smile wasn’t fake. She had done it.

She was in.

~

The Dark Mark had burned horribly when Voldemort had etched it into her skin, but – true to form – Bellatrix refused to let the pain show. She wasn’t about to allow anyone to question her strength now that she was joining the ranks. She would need to prove she could do whatever was asked of her – without compromising her position as an informant. The Dark Lord had seemed impressed when she refused to so much as flinch, though she did pinch her nose a bit, indicating that the smell of burnt flesh disgusted her.

“The lady won’t be burning her victims, then?” Rodolphus’ brother, Rabastan had teased her.

“Don’t be stupid,” Bella had sneered at him in response. “I’m far more creative than that!”

“I suspect that’s true,” Voldemort had smiled. “Just do me a small favor, Bella, and don’t practice your techniques on your husband. I might need him for some task or another.”

Bella had tossed her hair and sighed dramatically, as if Voldemort was stealing all the joy from her life, but replied lightly, “If you insist, My Lord, but that _does_ rather ruin my plans for this evening.”

Most of the others had laughed. Rodolphus had glared at her, and so, she’d smiled sweetly at him, and had added with a little wink, “Though I suppose he _would,_ rather enjoy it a bit too much…”

A few others who had come that night were receiving their Marks as well, and (although most screamed) there was a general air of celebration among the group. Laughing Death Eaters had talked and danced and ate and drank… It could almost have been forgotten that this was an initiation into a hateful, prejudiced gang.

Bella had been on her third Firewhiskey, and feeling just a bit out of sorts, when reality crashed through the haze and sobered her up. There had been a tap on her shoulder and a whisper in her ear from Lucius Malfoy. Her brother-in-law had told her that the Dark Lord was requesting her presence in private.

He had determined what her task would be…

~

It was Bella’s idea to use the Muggles and their crimes. A simple enough idea, really, because all she had to do was follow the Muggle police around. Whenever there was a murder scene, she would add some small detail with magic – something to make it seem as if a witch or wizard might be responsible for the death. Alice the Auror would, of course, help spread the rumor that some member of the magical world was on a Muggle-killing spree and Bellatrix would take credit for it with Voldemort. 

She would secretly lead the Muggle police to the real killers, but would simply tell the Dark Lord that she’d set the Muggles up so that no one would look into the matter too deeply. It was proving to be a solid plan. She had done this with eleven murders so far, and Voldemort was pleased. His task for her had been to kill just five Muggles, but Bella had told him she’d had too much fun to quit. Not only had that made her seem zealous for the cause, but it had also amused him.

Rodolphus was another story.

She’d been out that evening, met with Alice, gotten a bite to eat, and then gone out shopping just to feel as if she were doing something normal. Kipsy had gone with her, and for a few hours it was as if they were free. Kipsy had helped her find some new dress robes and shoes. She’d picked up some potion ingredients and visited the bookshop.

Finally, she had to admit it was getting late. She Apparated home and walked up to the house she and Rodolphus had purchased only to find him waiting for her outside, looking irritable. She paid him no mind and started to enter the house, but he grabbed her arm to stop her.

“Where have you been?” he asked.

“I thought we agreed not to ask one another that question,” she said coolly. “Why do you want to know?”

“Were you with him?” Rodolphus shook her arm a bit and she slapped him hard across the face.

“Which _him_ are you referring to?” she inquired calmly, as if she hadn’t just struck him.

“That lover of yours!” Rodolphus barked, ignoring the slap. “Were you with him?”

“No,” she said. “But if I had been, it would be none of your business. What’s this about?”

“Bella, you’ve got to stop killing these Muggles!” he said, sounding desperate, and she laughed involuntarily. Coming from him, the statement was truly ridiculous.

“Oh? And why have I got to stop?” she snorted. “Are you having an affair with one? Want me to spare her? Or is it a _him_?”

He let go of her. His expression was more serious than she had expected and he ignored the barb entirely. He paced a few steps away and then turned back to look at her. Now she was curious. What in the world could make him suddenly concerned that she might be a killer?

“What the bloody hell is going on, Rodolphus?” she asked, no longer amused. “What difference does it make if I was with my lover or out killing those whom the Dark Lord doesn’t want living?”

“It matters because an Auror was here,” he said, and Bella froze.

Had Alice been trying to reach her? Was there something urgent enough that the woman would risk blowing their cover by coming to her home? Had something happened after they’d parted company just a few short hours ago? But there were dozens of Aurors and no reason to think that it was Alice Longbottom who had come to call.

“An Auror?” she repeated. “What Auror?”

“Called himself Moody,” Rodolphus said. “I’ve heard of him and he’s dangerous. He wanted to know where you were and what you were doing. I couldn’t very well advertise that you might be with a boyfriend, especially so soon after our wedding, and I certainly couldn’t admit you were out doing what I think you were doing, either!”

“You choked, didn’t you?” Bella scoffed. “What did you tell him?”

“That I assumed you were visiting your sister at Malfoy Manor,” he replied. “I went in after he left, got on the Floo and warned Lucius and Narcissa. If he goes there tonight, they’ll say he just missed you. But that may not work next time, Bella, and he was asking if I’ve seen any Muggles lately!”

“Rodolphus, you’ve got to learn not to panic,” she sighed. “If you act nervous, they’ll be suspicious whether they have any real information on you or not. You’re making us both targets!”

“ _You’re_ making us targets!” he accused her. “How many of them did you wipe out tonight?”

“None,” she said, being honest with him for what was probably the first time in weeks. “I was shopping. See?”

She held up her bags as proof. His face relaxed, but not much. His concern amused her more than she wanted to admit. She had no reason to fear Moody or any other Auror. If she were caught, Alice would get her off. But her husband had no protection. She smirked, imagining him being carted off to Azkaban for his transgressions along with all the others.

“Can we go in now?” she mocked him. “Or is there a stray kitten you need me to protect you from?”

She entered the house without waiting for an answer. Kipsy, not wanting LeStrange to know she’d been out with Bella, had Apparated directly into the house and was in the kitchen making her Mistress a cup of tea. Rodolphus followed her inside and sank into his usual chair by the fireplace.

“I’m sorry,” he said, startling her. “I’m still having trouble trusting you.”

She stared at him. She didn’t need his full trust, but she _did_ need him to believe she was just as much a Death Eater as he was. She allowed her eyes to soften slightly and she lowered herself into the chair across from him.

“We may not have a real marriage,” she said in a tone that was gentler than any she’d used with him before. “But that doesn’t necessarily have to mean we’re enemies living in the same home, either.”

She had gauged her demeanor perfectly. He looked at her and all of the hostility had drained from him. He reached out for her hand and she didn’t pull away but took it and gave it a bit of a squeeze before letting go. That was all it took to lull him into a false sense of security for the moment, though she doubted this little truce would last. She considered him, thinking fast, all the while faking her micro expressions. He would be good practice for those moments when she would be expected to face Voldemort. She was beginning to realize that she couldn’t be forceful all the time, as well. There would have to be times when she must appear to let her guard down, or else the character she was creating for herself simply wouldn’t be believable. She could very well blow her cover by trying too hard to maintain it.

“How long had you been with your lover before we were paired together, Bellatrix?” he asked. The question surprised her. Had he been thinking about this? Did he actually care that she loved someone else?

“Oh,” she sighed, thinking back. “Nearly three years.”

“And this boyfriend isn’t a Pureblood?” he asked. “Is that why your parents didn’t let the two of you marry?”

He _had_ been thinking about it, she realized. He’d wondered quite a lot, in fact. Was he merely curious, or was there something more to it? His eyes were fixed on her face, studying her reaction to the impromptu interrogation.

“My parents never knew I was in love,” Bella laughed gently. “Still don’t. And I’ll never tell them.”

“But _why_ didn’t you tell them? Why the secrecy?” he pressed her. “Who in the world are you slipping off to see?”

“Why does it matter?” she asked wistfully. Then she granted him a sad smile. “What you have to understand, Rodolphus, is that my family wouldn’t have cared. I could have told them I was in love with the greatest and most powerful Pureblood wizard in the _world_ and they would have _still_ tried to stop me out of principle.”

“Principle?”

“Yes. You see, that’s the real reason they disowned Andromeda. The parents in my family have an unnatural need to control their children. If it wasn’t someone of their choosing, then I would never be allowed to marry. And, yes, I could’ve gone off on my own, been disowned like Andy… But that would mean losing Narcissa.”

“But now you’ve lost Andromeda instead. And she married a Mudblood, didn’t she?”

A warning siren went off in Bella’s head. If he thought she still had any allegiance to the middle Black sister, this whole charade might be at an end. She was getting dangerously close to slipping up. She thought fast and managed what she hoped looked like a sad smile.

“Andromeda married the Mudblood to further rebel against our parents,” she told him. “Insult to injury and all that… I’ll be surprised if they’re still together a year from now. I think she just wanted to get away. And she did, didn’t she? She got away from us forever… No, I’d lost her already. She knew where I stood from the beginning. The Mudblood was a step too far for me…”

She could see his mind working, and finally he nodded slowly. She wanted to let out the breath she’d been holding, but she didn’t dare. That had been close. She would have to watch her tongue a bit more closely in the future. 

It was a relief when Kipsy brought in her tea. She needed something to steady her nerves and she wouldn’t have said no to something stronger…

~

As one month melted into another, and as one year faded into two and three and so on, Bellatrix became more and more practiced in the art of intrigue. She had taken credit for nearly two hundred murders she’d never committed, she’d manipulated the memories of countless people to make Voldemort think she’d tortured them in a variety of ways, and she had managed to get as close to the darkest of dark wizards as anyone ever had, although she knew he had no real friends. Of course, there were some she’d been forced to actually harm, usually due to the presence of another Death Eater or because the Dark Lord himself was nearby. In those moments, she would brace herself and try to remember why she was really there. There were people counting on her, after all. She could hardly slip up because of her own squeamishness. So when she would have to maim and torture, she would imagine other faces on the intended victim. Sometimes it was Rodolphus, or Voldemort himself. But usually, in most cases, it was her parents she was destroying. She gave her innocent targets what she felt Cygnus and Druella Black deserved.

She became so skilled in her craft, in fact, that when her sixteen year old cousin, Regulus, appeared one day in the meeting hall with the other Death Eaters, she was able to manipulate her face into an overjoyed expression. Inside, however, her stomach twisted in horror. Poor, gullible Regulus had been easily led astray by one force or another for as long as Bella could remember, and now here he stood, a lamb to the slaughter…

“Are you surprised, Bella?” Voldemort was asking her.

“Surprised that he would join us, no,” Bella replied. “Surprised that he would be allowed to do so at such a young age? Frankly, my Lord, yes, a bit.” She stepped towards Regulus and embraced him. With her arms wrapped so tightly around his slim frame, she could feel him trembling and her concern deepened. How had he come to them like this? Suddenly she resented Sirius for not taking his brother with him when he ran.

“Stick with me, Reg,” she whispered to him. “Stick with me and do as I say. We’ll do marvelous things together and bring some true honor to the family.”

“Do as _you_ say, Bella?” Rodolphus sneered. “I thought we were here for our Lord’s benefit.”

“Of course we are, you idiot!” Bellatrix hissed back at him. “Do you think anything I tell him to do will go against our Lord?” She drew herself up to her full height and glared into her husband’s face. “Because if you are questioning my loyalty – ”

“Enough,” Voldemort said softly, and Bella immediately stepped away, trying to look like the perfect, obedient disciple. “Bella, no one questions your dedication to our cause. You have proven yourself time and again.”

Rodolphus had the sense to look abashed. Lately, it seemed, he was growing jealous of Voldemort’s apparent trust in his wife. And Bella was responding in a way to make it seem as if their marriage was on the rocks as a result. She was hoping she could drive him to divorce her even before she could get their union dissolved. He’d served his purpose, after all.

For the moment, though, her mind was elsewhere. Now she had Regulus to protect as well as Narcissa and she already had her hands full. She’d given enough valuable information to Alice to keep several key targets alive – for the moment – but she dreaded the possibility that someday she wouldn’t be fast enough and someone would die…

“We’re happy to have another Black in our ranks, Regulus,” Voldemort was saying. “A pity about your brother, however.”

Trying hard to remain steady and calm, Regulus looked up at Voldemort. “I have no brother, My Lord,” he said, though Bella caught the indirect glance he gave her and smiled.

“Well said, young man,” Voldemort chuckled. “Well said. So… Are you as eager as your cousin? Are you as ready to prove yourself as she was when she first joined our ranks?”

“I will do whatever I must,” Regulus nodded. “My family, as you know, is always at your service, My Lord.”

Regulus was smart and a quick thinker. But Bellatrix knew he didn’t have the cold-heartedness to be a true Death Eater, nor did he have her ability to deceive. But she’d trained him in Occlumency herself. He wasn’t as good as she was, but he hadn’t had as much practice, either. She’d get him up to speed and, when he began to see what was really happening here, she hoped she’d have an ally in him.

“My Lord,” came an unwelcome voice. “I believe our guests have arrived.”

Snape. Oh, how she distrusted that man! She couldn’t tell if he was truly following Voldemort, or if he had some other, personal agenda. But then, he probably thought the same of her. It was like with Sirius, Bella decided. They could never be friends because they were simply too much alike. It was hard to get along someone when all you saw in them were your own flaws reflected back at you with such stark clarity.

“Guests?” Bella echoed, sounding cruelly excited. “Is it the sort of guest I hope it is, My Lord? Are we going to get to play?”

Poor Regulus. She felt him draw back at her tone and was immediately sorry. She flashed him what she was sure was a disquieting smile, but reached for his hand and gave it what she hoped was a comforting squeeze.

“Oh, yes, Bella,” Voldemort smiled. “Please… Take your cousin. Show him how we extract information from unwilling sources.”

With an excited little squeak, Bellatrix pulled Regulus along with her, and he didn’t resist. Even so, she could feel him shaking again and tightened her grip on his hand. How had Regulus gotten into all this? His mother’s doing, probably, but why Voldemort would let in someone who had not yet even graduated from Hogwarts… Bella’s mind was working hard and fast. Something was amiss here, she was sure of it. When they reached the door that opened to the basement, when it was just her and Regulus, she stopped, pushed him to the wall, and whispered in his ear.

“Do you remember the Occlumency I taught you?” she demanded.

He nodded a little too fast. “Y-yes… I-I-I’ve b-been using it s-since I g-g-g-got here…” He gulped hard. “It seemed… seemed to imp-p-press him…”

“Stop stuttering, boy!” Bella hissed. “You’ve got to keep control of yourself. Now listen, do as I tell you, and don’t do anything stupid.”

No one listening would detect treachery in her words, but Regulus knew her well. He paused and studied her face. No need to fake micro expressions now. She let her true worry and fear fill her eyes. He slowly nodded, understanding, and seemed to calm down a bit.

“So, what do we do?” he asked. She answered him with a pained smile, and watched his relief vanish. She was on her cousin’s side, he wasn’t alone, but it might not do him much good. His eyes closed, and he braced himself for what was to come. He understood. In order to defeat the monster, they would have to behave like monsters.

“Do as I say,” Bella repeated softly, and this time he nodded.

Together, they entered the room beyond the stairwell. To Regulus’ credit, as the screaming began, he managed not to vomit.

~

Whispered conversations were becoming more and more common between the cousins, as were their discussions about their findings and their plans. Bellatrix and Regulus were huddled together, both squeezed into the tiny booth in the back of the crowded Muggle bar. The smoke was stifling, but no one would look for them in here, with drunken Muggles and the worst food Bella had ever smelled in her life. On this occasion, Regulus was frantically trying to tell her something, but Bella couldn’t follow his train of thought.

“It’s… monstrous…”Reg was saying. “It’s – it’s – it’s – I d-don’t even know where to… Start… It’s – it’s – Oh, _Bella_!”

“Try forming a sentence, Reg,” Bella sighed. “Just one to start, and then add another and another until you’ve completed a thought. _Please_ don’t make me pry into your head; you _are,_ a teenage boy, after all, so I’m quite certain it’s filthy in there.”

He blinked at her, uncertain if he was being insulted or not, but ultimately decided to let it pass and instead told her, “I think he’s looking for ways to keep himself alive, even if someone kills him.” 

It was Bella’s turn to blink. “You _do_ know those are mutually exclusive events, don’t you?” 

“But that’s just it!” Reg looked on the verge of frustrated tears. “He said something about contingencies.” 

Bella didn’t like the sound of that at all. She glanced around the room. They were crouched into the booth farthest from the door. There was something she’d heard a Muggle call a jukebox against the wall near their seat that was blaring something Bella supposed the Muggles must think of as music. People were dancing or playing billiards and no one seemed to notice them. Still it was hard to shake the feeling that someone might be eavesdropping. She inconspicuously waved her wand under the table and muttered a spell to dampen their conversation further. 

“What do you mean by that?” she asked him. 

“You mean what did _he_ mean,” her cousin sighed. “And I’ve no idea. We need to know if what he’s talking about is even possible in the first place.” 

Bella sighed again. “I knew you’d eventually make me do research,” she pretended to complain. “All right, then. We’re likely going to be digging into some very ancient texts on this one.” 

"I lied by accident, I think,” Regulus said before she could say more. “I mean, I think I have an idea… Something… Something I heard my mum call the Darkest Magic… But, I don’t know if – ” 

“ _Your_ mother called something Dark?” Bella marveled. 

“Yeah,” Regulus said, looking frightened. “And it seemed to unnerve her.” 

Bella’s eyes closed. Whatever this was, if it could scare her battleaxe of an aunt, it was very, very bad… She could only hope her cousin was wrong. 

“Lovely,” she sighed. “Just lovely…” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Bonus points for anyone who can calculate the decade and therefore correctly guess which genre of music is blaring from the jukebox and offending Bella's poor, innocent ears.


	6. Interlude Three: Business and Pleasure

Bellatrix lived for these brief, scarce moments when she could slip away, unnoticed, to Morgan Manor. The visits home kept her going through the long weeks of subterfuge and stealthy sabotage and playing the devoted disciple of the most loathsome man she’d ever imagined. A few stolen kisses and a bit of very intimate comfort taken between the sheets of a large, plush bed… A meal prepared for two, served on the balcony… Warm, gentle hands on her skin… A nice conversation with her _real_ family and the promise that someday, someday, she would be back here for good…

It was intoxicating from the moment she arrived.

But it never lasted.

Eventually, Bella would have to push herself out the door, remind herself that there was work to be done before she could allow herself to relax. When the time came, as it always, inevitably did, she would kiss her lover good-bye – a long hard kiss, because there was no telling if it might be the last – and leave the bedroom to go downstairs and out the door where she would Disapparate.

After one visit, her father-in-law – her _real_ one – was waiting for her at the door. Bella saw him before she’d made it all the way down the stair, and paused at a mirror to make sure she’d done a proper job of pulling herself together after her tumble in bed with his eldest child. Certainly, he must know what the couple had been doing, but out of respect, Bella felt the need to keep it as discreet as possible. Even so, she was blushing when she finally met him at the entryway.

“You _are_ beautiful, my girl,” Henry Morgan smiled at her, brushing a stray curl from her forehead. “And brave for what you’re doing.”

“More desperate than brave, sorry to say,” she said softly, still feeling the flush on her cheeks. “And it’s getting harder.”

“Oh?”

“I saw Andromeda in Diagon Alley yesterday,” Bellatrix confessed. “From across the way… She’s got a little girl. My little sister is a mother and I couldn’t even go to her to say congratulations or to meet my own niece because someone might have seen me.”

“I’m sorry, Bella,” Henry whispered, and hugged her close. “So very sorry… I know it’s been rough on you, this double-agent business, but you’ve done so much good. How are your other sister and your cousin?”

He pulled her back, looking her in the face, and she managed a smile.

“Still alive,” she said. “And still trapped in the service of the Dark Lord. Poor Reg has dug up something that could prove to be important, if not necessarily useful, and if he’s right… But that’s information for Alice. I won’t taint my home with this awful business.” She sighed regretfully.“Speaking of Alice, I’ve got to go. I’ve some… Well, disturbing news for her…”

“Kipsy!” she called. “Sorry to cut it short, but we’ve got to leave!”

Kipsy and Tilly popped into sight beside her and she smiled at them. The two little elves kissed and Tilly fought with herself to keep from crying, as she did every time the pair had to go.

“I’m sorry, Tilly,” Bella said. “But I need Kipsy to patrol the rendezvous point for any potential eavesdroppers.”

“I knows, Mistress,” Tilly said through a watery smile. “You is coming back soon?”

“We’ll try,” Bella promised. And with that, the witch and the elf said their goodbyes and left their home behind them.

~

“What do you mean contingencies?” Alice asked her. They were in their usual spot at the bench in the Muggle park. They’d gotten good at pretending to read while exchanging valuable tidbits and the Auror’s lips barely moved as she spoke. A bit of magic muffled their conversation and Bella turned a page before she answered.

“Just that,” Bellatrix murmured. “Contingencies in the event of his death, that’s what he said. I’m still trying to learn more.”

Alice nodded, briefly glanced at Bella and a ghost of a smile crossed her face. “You’ve been visiting with that special someone, haven’t you?”

Bella tried not to smile too much. It wouldn’t do to give away that they were talking. “Is it that obvious?”

“You’re always happier when we meet after you’ve been home,” Alice said. “And you don’t seem quite so tired. It’s been so long since you’ve seen your family, Bella; I was actually beginning to worry about you.”

“Worried I’ll crack, or worried I’ll quit?” Bella quipped.

Alice’s sidelong glance was a serious one. “The two aren’t mutually exclusive.”

“I’m alright for now,” Bellatrix said. “Believe me, I’d tell you if I was in trouble.”

“Any ideas, theories about what these contingencies are?” Alice prodded.

“Something old and evil, I’d wager,” Bella said darkly. “Maybe something involving unicorn blood, maybe something worse… I just don’t know yet. And the possibilities are…”

“Frightening,” Alice sighed. “I know. Keep your ear to the ground and your eye on your cousin. Regulus might be an asset, but he’s young. I don’t want him taking unnecessary chances.”

“He’s never been reckless. But I understand.”

“My superiors at the Ministry are also beginning to ask a few too many questions about where I’m getting my information,” Alice confided. “I’m considering the pros and cons of limiting access to what you tell me to the Order. What would you think of that?”

“Alice, I don’t care who it goes to as long as it doesn’t get back to You-Know-Who that it came from _me_ ,” she said. “Beyond that, all I care about is immunity for Narcissa, Regulus, and me, and my annulment from LeStrange. God help me, I just want this to be over with so that I can go home.”

“I understand.”

The two women looked at each other for just a moment before they felt the risk was too much. They’d been sitting there together for far too long. There was nothing left to say. Bellatrix closed her book, stood, and walked toward the playground area, pretending to watch the children play. Behind her, Alice pretended to scan a few more pages and then she, too, arose and walked away. Bella watched a group of three little girls playing on the swings.

“I can go higher!” exclaimed one child with dark, heavy curls. The girl had an air about her, as if she was always the best, always in control, always in charge. Her bright blue eyes sparked with confidence.

“No, you can’t!” challenged a redhead as she pumped her little legs as hard as she could in an effort to catch up. Her glasses fell off, but she didn’t relent for a moment. Young, feisty, and determined…

“I’m not keeping score for you two again!” said a smallish girl with brown hair as she stopped her swing to rescue the redhead’s glasses. “Why does everything have to be a contest?”

“Because it’s more fun that way!” the first girl giggled.

Bella laughed softly to herself. She wondered if these girls had a secret place where they told each other everything. She wondered if they were sisters or just close friends. Most of all, she wondered if they would still be able to poke and tease and share with each other twenty years from now in the same way that they were doing today.

She hoped so.

Someone should be able to…


	7. Chapter Three: Foreseeable Events

Two months had slipped by since she had watched the children on the swings.

Everyone was in an uproar when Bellatrix arrived. The Death Eaters in the hall were almost in a panic and no one would tell her why. She found Narcissa standing dutifully beside her husband and pulled her harshly aside. The younger woman’s eyes were rimmed red with tears and Bella needed to know why.

“What’s going on, Cissy?” Bella demanded. “Why have you been crying? Where is the Dark Lord?” But Narcissa couldn’t seem to speak, so Bella gave her arm a shake. “Answer me!”

“Regulus…” Narcissa said hoarsely. “He did something…”

“Did something?” Bella repeated. He couldn’t have… Not without her knowing!

 _‘Except,’_ a small voice whispered in the back of her mind. _‘That he probably did…’_

They had figured it out about the Horcruxes, the two of them. But they had agreed that it wasn’t worth telling Alice until they knew what the Horcruxes were. It was too risky, passing on incomplete information. Then Regulus told her that Voldemort had wanted to borrow an elf.

“Choose one you trust, Reg,” she remembered telling him, all the while hoping he’d keep her Kipsy out of it. “And be sure to order the elf to return and secretly tell you everything. And keep your ear to the ground. Someone might begin to brag about being entrusted with some valuable personal possession of the Dark Lord’s. Just don’t do anything on your own, alright?”

He had promised. But she knew he was getting more and more nervous about their position. He hadn’t listened to her this time. She knew it. But what had it cost him?

“What did he do?” Bella whispered, more to herself than to her sister.

“The Dark Lord said he stole something important and that he had to be punished.”

Bella’s mind was spinning. It was worse than she thought. Voldemort knew. He knew! But how much? Was Bella next? Did she have time to escape? Would it be too risky to go to Alice? Or did Voldemort believe Regulus had acted alone? For the first time in years, Bella had no idea what she should do, what play to make… And she couldn’t confide in Narcissa. The thought of Lucius figuring out her plans…

Suddenly, Voldemort appeared in the room with Rodolphus on his heels. Her husband was smiling maliciously, looking very pleased with himself. Bellatrix’s dark eyes narrowed. What in the world had that vampire done? She fought the urge to hex him on general principle, giving herself one last moment of satisfaction before her possible impending doom.

“Bella,” Voldemort said softly.

Bellatrix clamped down on her fear, trusted her Occlumency to keep her mind safe, and suddenly felt able to plan quickly and weigh the possibilities before her. If things turned south, could she call on Kipsy to get her out of this quickly enough to save their lives? Or would she end up condemning her elf to share with her what she was sure would be a gruesome fate? She stepped towards the pale, evil man with a confidence she didn’t feel, refusing to let herself cry as Narcissa was doing. Later, of course, she was certain she’d be very ill, but for the moment, through sheer force of will, she played her part.

“Yes, My Lord,” she said, as if there was nothing wrong.

“Do you know what has transpired?” he asked her. A loaded question.

“The others tell me Regulus has done something,” she replied carefully. “But no one will give me any details.”

“Let me into your mind, Bellatrix,” he ordered.

“Forgive me, My Lord, but I can’t,” she said. Inside, she was panicking. She wouldn’t risk Kipsy’s life. She couldn’t. The elf had orders to go to the Morgans’ in the event of some tragedy that killed Bella. She could be with Tilly that way, and she would take care of Bella’s family. No, Bella had to protect her friend. She would die alone.

“Do you distrust me, Bella?” Voldemort’s tone was dangerous.

“Not _you,_ My Lord,” Bella replied quietly, glancing pointedly at Rodolphus and then around the room at the assembled Death Eaters. Finally she returned her gaze to him. She kept her expression as steady and calm as she could, and only the repetition of constant practice allowed her to pull it off.

“Do you trust your cousin?” he asked her, circling her now, and Bella tried hard not to think of a vulture, though she supposed it was more like a snake, preparing to constrict and crush a victim.

“Does My Lord know of some reason I shouldn’t?” she asked, trying her best to look curious. This was definitely not the time to let her fear break through her ever-present mask. She gave him a look meant to appease him and then went on. “Let me talk to Reg,” she suggested. “I’m certain I can get to the bottom of all this. He’s never lied to me.”

“I would, Bella,” Voldemort said. “But I’m afraid his transgression was severe enough that I was forced to take drastic action.”

Bella paused, processing that, understanding what it meant. If she cracked now, if she screwed up, nothing could save her – or Narcissa. She smiled at her husband – the same smile she’d given him at their wedding. He visibly flinched again, knowing that she knew what he had helped Voldemort do, and – far more importantly – that he would be in desperate trouble once she got him alone.

“Did My Lord truly feel the need to take drastic action with Rodolphus rather than me?” she practically purred, knowing that Voldemort would assume the smile meant she would’ve taken pleasure in participating. He had no idea what Rodolphus was predicting for himself from the look in her eyes. “After all, My Lord… He’s _my_ cousin…” She looked up at him once more, pretended to pout just a bit. “Rather hurts my feelings, you know…”

Voldemort, unable to get into her mind, and likely believing that Rodolphus’ fear was born of performing such a task without his wife, rested a hand on her shoulder, studied her. Bella forced herself to project an expression of understanding and acceptance.

“Really, did you think I would object?” she smiled at him. Narcissa looked shocked, but Bella couldn’t worry about that now. Soon enough, she hoped she’d be able to explain to her sister why she had done the things she had done.

 _‘I’m not mad, Cissy,’_ she wanted to cry. _‘I’m not mad; I’m just keeping you safe as best I can! I’m trying to get us out of this alive! I swear; I just want to go home!’_

She wondered briefly if Andromeda knew what had been going on, if she had been in contact with Alice. She could never quite bring herself to ask the Auror that question. Would it be better if Andy knew, like Cissy knew? Or should she hope that Andy had never had another conversation with Alice again? Did Andromeda think she’d finally crossed over and truly joined the Death Eaters’ ranks, or did she still have a little faith in her big sister? If Voldemort didn’t believe her now and slaughtered her, as he had so very many, would Alice and Andromeda ever find out what had happened? No one knew yet about the Horcruxes, either. No one would know that even if the Dark Lord were killed, he might still return.

“I’m glad to hear you say that, Bella,” Voldemort said, but Bellatrix knew better than to let her relief bleed through her admiring expression. He was still searching her face for some sign of treachery. If he sensed that she was relieved, he would know that she had been worried. It was better if he believed she wasn’t concerned at all, as if betraying him was so far from _her_ mind that she assumed it was just as far from _his_.

Then Voldemort stopped circling her, stopped examining her, stopped trying to force his way past her Occlumency. He looked at her and nodded briefly. He walked away from her; he would let her live. For the moment. Bellatrix glared at Rodolphus and advanced on him. He began to back away, but ran out of space after only a few steps. His back was very literally against the wall.

“Just wait until we’re alone, dear,” she whispered. “I’ve a few surprises for you.”

Rodolphus believed her, and that evening his brother, Rabastan, became a virtually permanent fixture in their home.

~

The cup didn’t look terribly impressive. But Bellatrix had a sick feeling about it and what it might be. She opened her bag and stared at it as she rode with the goblin down to her vault where she would store it.

She wasn’t certain what had made Voldemort entrust it into her care, but she hoped it was a sign that he didn’t suspect her of the betrayals she was committing against him. She kept her arrogant, haughty expression as they descended deeper into the wizarding bank and she walked tall and proud when they finally reached her vault. She entered and placed the cup carefully in the back, with the family items that actually meant something to her – like her stuffed toy cat – away from the impressive piles of gold. She didn’t like that the cup was here, didn’t want it near her cat (especially considering what she suspected it was) but she could think of no place else to put it where it could do no harm to others, and she didn’t want it where she’d have to see it every time she came to get a bit of gold, either. So, there it was.

“All right,” she waspishly told the goblin as she exited. “Get me out of here. I’ve got quite a lot to do.”

~

Bellatrix and Kipsy had just gotten back from a meeting with Alice late one afternoon to find Tilly standing in the kitchen. As soon as the two elves saw one another, they squealed like school children and ran into each other’s arms. Bella smiled. Few things made her happy anymore, but anything that reminded her that she was a Morgan was welcome.

“Mistress Bella,” Tilly squeaked and ran forward to hug her as well. Bella scooped up the elf and held her tightly for a moment before releasing her. “Oh, Mistress Bella, I is so happy to see yous, Miss!”

“It’s good to see you, too, Tilly,” Bella laughed. “But what brings you here?”

“Well, Miss,” Tilly said. “I – ” The elf broke off and whispered. “No other peoples is here, is there, Miss?”

“No,” Bella replied. “Rodolphus and Rabastan have gone over to visit with Nott and that elf of Rabastan’s was sent out for groceries. No one is due back for another hour or so.”

“Good,” Tilly said. “I is having conversations with Kreacher, Miss. He is telling me that, before he is dead, Miss, that Master Regulus is leaving a special thing in Kreacher’s care, Miss. A locket, Miss. He is telling me that Master Regulus is giving hims special permissions to tell elves Mistress Bella trusts and Mistress Bella herself, but no one else, Miss.”

“A locket, you say?”

“Yes, Miss,” Tilly nodded. “A special locket. A Slytherin locket, Miss.”

“Slytherin?” Bella murmured. “All right, Tilly. I understand. Please, tell Kreacher I want him to guard it to the very best of his ability. But before you go, why don’t you and Kipsy go down to the basement and… Well, do whatever the two of you like to do when you’re alone together.”

The elves squealed happily again and Disapparated to the basement to get there faster. At least someone could be happy. Bella was beginning to lose herself in this work. She could feel the edges of who she had once been begin to blur from the prolonged horror she was now experiencing every day. It had been eight long years since she had walked into this gladiator’s arena, and she was growing weary of the battle. She still hadn’t told Alice about the Horcruxes, though she wasn’t sure anymore why she was holding the information back.

She had grown fond of the Auror, though. She was worried now that something would happen to Alice, something as horrible as what had happened to Regulus and so many others before him. She was developing a protective instinct for the little round-faced witch, and she wasn’t certain such a thing would be healthy for either of them. She was contemplating dropping a hint or two anonymously to some other person. Dumbledore kept coming to mind, though he unsettled her. She had spent most of the past decade up close and personal with one manipulative man, and she sensed the seeds of the same chess-board mindset in the professor. Still, he was brilliant. And if he never knew where the tip had come from, she didn’t suppose he could draw her any further into the abyss than she already was.

There was an owlery not too far from her house and they didn’t ask who was sending letters or to whom so long as the bill was paid. Bella, on impulse, grabbed a few galleons from her purse and jotted down a note on a scrap of parchment. Then she was out the door before she could think better of her idea. She grabbed her broom and flew as quickly as she could, requested the fastest, most reliable owl, and paid a decent, but unmemorable tip. Then she reread her letter, making sure it was properly phrased before she sent it out.

_Dumbledore,_

_You don’t know me and it doesn’t matter who I am. I’m sending this because I’ve attained some information regarding Voldemort. All you need to know is one word, and in its plural form. Horcruxes. I don’t know how many. You didn’t hear any of this from me._

_Be careful._

_~ The Friend of a Dead Man_

She sent it before her better judgment took over. Then, shaking, she made it back to the little shed where she’d parked her broom. But she made it no further. She broke down right there, alone, and sobbed. 

__She was beginning to believe she would never be able to go home again._ _

__~_ _

__Rodolphus and Rabastan (who seemed compelled by his brother’s fear of his wife to stay) noticed Bellatrix’s foul mood. It had been months since Bella felt free enough to go to Morgan Manor. She had a suspicion that the treacherous little elf Rabastan had brought with him, Dorsey, was following orders to spy on her. Soon, she was forced to encode her messages to Alice and send them to the Auror through Kipsy, and she always had to give the elf instructions to avoid detection by any other elf, witch, or wizard in the course of her duties. As a result, she hadn’t seen Alice in months, either. She _did_ manage to lead Dorsey on a long, fruitless trek throughout London one day, and by the time she’d returned, she’d worn Rabastan’s elf to exhaustion. A lack of contact with those she considered civilized human beings was taking a toll on her, however; she felt herself growing surlier by the day. _ _

__She was considering the pros and cons of amusing herself by planting false clues for Dorsey to take back to his master, leading the LeStrange brothers on a wild goose chase looking for Bella’s lover, when the Dark Mark on her arm began to burn. A familiar enough sensation by now, though she wasn’t sure she’d ever get used to seeing that skull and snake on her forearm. She stood and looked over at the other two. They nodded, and together, they went outside and Disapparated._ _

__~_ _

__They did not arrive at the meeting hall, but in an empty field in what looked to Bellatrix to be the middle of absolutely nowhere. She gazed around and finally found Voldemort, standing as he had the first time she’d seen him, with his back to the group, contemplating not a blank wall this time, but empty air. She wondered, not for the first time, if he visualized his plans, letting them play out before him in his imagination, when he stared at nothing in this way._ _

__Only when the entire group had assembled did he speak. “There has been a prophesy,” he told them. “It predicts the birth a child who could be my ultimate downfall.” A series of gasps went through the crowd._ _

__Always trying to make herself seem the most loyal, the most dedicated, Bellatrix exclaimed, “Impossible!”_ _

__Voldemort turned to her. “Impossible, Bella?”_ _

__“Of course!” she scoffed, as if the mere suggestion of such a thing were blasphemous. Then she added loudly, addressing the whole group. “Who could possibly be more powerful than our Lord Voldemort?”_ _

__A murmur of agreement went through the group. Most were likely trying to appease the Dark Lord out of fear, but Bella knew she’d managed a tone of true belief, in part because she’d spoken out so firmly and so quickly. All the while, a hope – one that had begun to sputter out – was blazing anew. Could it be that she would be reunited with the rest of the Morgan family after all? Could the downfall of this man finally be at hand?_ _

___‘Don’t get ahead of yourself,’_ a little voice cautioned her. _‘The music is still playing; the dance must go on for now. Don’t give yourself away.’__ _

__“Your faith and dedication are appreciated, Bella,” Voldemort smiled at her. It was the same false smile he always used. She was growing sick and tired of pretending it had any effect on her. But that little whisper in the back of her mind was right – the music played on, the waltz continued. She returned it with an adoring expression and Voldemort continued. “But for every powerful witch or wizard, someone must be born to surpass the accomplishments of those who came before. It is how we progress. However, if this child poses a threat to me and to our cause, it must be dealt with. The prophesy speaks of a child born as the seventh month dies. We must look for some witch who will give birth at the end of July. We will allow this child to be born, and then destroy it.”_ _

__Bella glanced over and saw that Narcissa had turned quite pale. Strange… Narcissa had stoically, though unhappily, listened to Voldemort declare dozens of “necessary deaths”. But then a thought hit Bella. A child to be born in the summer would have been conceived right about… Bella pushed the thought away. Narcissa would tell her if she’d gotten pregnant. Wouldn’t she?_ _

__But then again, Bellatrix had been so focused on guarding Narcissa, so intent on playing her part, that the two of them rarely talked as they had so many years ago. They didn’t share intimate details of their lives anymore, and Bella knew, on some level, that the reasons for this were _her_ fault. After all, how could she tell the dedicated wife of Lucius Malfoy that she was plotting the downfall of both their husbands as well their leader? How could she confide in her younger sister that she was secretly meeting with an Auror, a member of the Order of the Phoenix, when it might be possible for Malfoy or, worse, Voldemort to get it out of her? And so, she’d kept her silence, and a rift had grown between them._ _

__“I need everyone to go out and search,” Voldemort was saying. “Find any witch who may be pregnant and due to give birth in the summer, and bring word to me.”_ _

__While Bellatrix was among those promising allegiance and dutiful service in this task, her mind never left her sister. As soon as others began to Disapparate, Bella pulled the younger witch aside. The pale, slender Narcissa looked at her, worried, and Bella said dismissively to Malfoy, “Pardon us, Lucius, but I’ve a matter to discuss with my sister in private.”_ _

__She steered Narcissa to the far edge of the field where no one would hear them and leaned in close._ _

__“When?” she asked, and Narcissa made no pretense; she knew what her sister was asking._ _

__“End of May, most likely,” she whispered. “Or, perhaps, early June.”_ _

__“Then why the look of panic?” Bella pressed._ _

__“Because…” Narcissa replied. “It’s… It’s so close! And what if – ”_ _

__Bella raised an eyebrow. “What if you give birth nearly two months late? I think you’re in the clear, Cissy. Don’t worry.” She noticed Lucius and Rabastan approaching and couldn’t stop herself from rolling her eyes a bit. “Does he know?”_ _

__“No,” Narcissa said with just a hint of a smile. “That’s why I hadn’t told you yet. I thought I should tell Lucius first. I should’ve realized you’d just be able to look at me and know.”_ _

__Bellatrix smiled a real smile. It was a bit of a relief to know they hadn’t drifted so far apart after all. But she didn’t say anything else; the men were too close now. Lucius looked a bit displeased to have had Narcissa so hastily pulled away. Bella supposed she could understand that, however. Anytime she spoke with Cissy anymore, she would drag her off and ignore Lucius – even if he were attempting to hold a conversation with his wife himself._ _

__“Now, see here, Bellatrix – ” he began, obviously trying to sound stern. Bella only laughed at him._ _

__“You should have a conversation with your wife, Lucius,” she told him, but then added to Cissy. “Or you could keep it to yourself; see how long it takes him to catch on. Your choice.” Then she turned to Rabastan and looked him over disdainfully, as if he were a slug who kept miraculously surviving a series of carefully laid out salt traps. “And what, may I ask, do _you_ want?”_ _

__“Rodolphus said he’s going out to find this woman and that he won’t be home for awhile,” he told her and she scoffed._ _

__“I don’t give a damn what he does,” she laughed. “Why don’t you go with him? Personally, I intend to work out a _plan_ before I rush off to find anyone. But whatever pleases you…”_ _

__Instead of answering, he sneered at her and then Disapparated. After hugging her sister goodbye, and whispering, “I love you both!” in Narcissa’s ear, Bellatrix did the same, and ended up at home, where she expected to have only the elves for company._ _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Uncle Martin pointed out something I need to address. This is NOT a cannon divergence. Regulus was still pulled in by the Inferi when he and Kreacher retrieved the locket. But Voldemort could not say this to his followers, so he modified Rodolphus' memory to make him believe he'd helped murder Reg. He selected Rodolphus as a means if pushing Bella to see if she had also been involved. Bella, at this time, doesn't know what really happened, but she scented danger easily enough and surmised the best way to craft her response.


	8. Chapter Four: No Good Deed

It would be an understatement to say that Dorsey was arguing with Kipsy when she arrived. In fact, the two elves were leaning in, preparing to fist fight. Bellatrix knew that Dorsey, the older and less spry of the two, would have a difficult time subduing Kipsy. But still, she didn’t want to risk her friend getting hurt, and so she stepped in.

“What’s all this?” she demanded, using a harsher tone than she normally would with elves because Dorsey was involved. “Kipsy? What’s going on?”

“This – this – this _servant of a vampire_ is saying no good things about Kipsy’s Mistress Bella!” the elf shrieked, not backing down at all. “Kipsy will tear off his head and feed it to the fire!”

Bella blinked. She knew Kipsy was protective of her, but she’d never seen her quite like this. She needed to know more. She caught Kipsy in midair as the younger elf attempted to pounce on the older one and turned on Dorsey.

“Dorsey,” she said sharply. “Tell me what you said. Now. Or else I’ll let her go.”

Dorsey glared openly at her, but did as he was told. “Dorsey,” he said in his wheezing voice. “Merely said that Mistress Bella makes a very poor wife for Dorsey’s Master Rabastan’s brother Master Rodolphus. Dorsey said that Mistress Bella must be sick in her mind if she does not see that Master Rodolphus is a good husband who provides her with a good house, good food, good – ”

“Good Lord!” Bella interrupted, disgusted and exasperated. She released Kipsy. “Dorsey, pack up your Master’s belongings and make certain that there is nothing that belongs to me among them. I want no sneaky business from you. Then get out and don’t ever follow me or bother me or interfere with me again. I know you’ve been traipsing after me, trying to find out who my lover is, but that’s no business of yours, Rabastan’s, or Rodolphus’. Your master isn’t allowed back here. If Rodolphus doesn’t want to be alone here with me, then he can simply leave. Kipsy, keep an eye on him. Don’t let him have anything he or his master or Rodolphus might use against me. If he gives you a hard time, do whatever you want with him. It makes little difference to me. When he’s gone, come see me. I’ve got a mission for the Dark Lord; I’ve got a plan to work out, and I’m going to need you.”

“Yes, Mistress,” Kipsy said, still eyeing Dorsey as if he were prey. “Kipsy is happy to follow those orders. Very, very happy!”

Both of them made an exit, going through the door sideways like a pair of crabs because neither was willing to turn their back to the other. Bella would be surprised if Dorsey got out of the house alive. But there was work to be done. Now, with the LeStrange brothers gone for awhile, Bella could finally meet with Alice in person; finally make a short trip home. Then she would have to find this poor pregnant witch who was due in late July and try to protect the woman even as she would be forced to give her name to Voldemort or else risk being branded a traitor and killed. She was dancing across thin ice and the water below her was poisonous. But what choice did she have?

 _‘Your baby sister is pregnant,’_ she reminded herself. _‘You didn’t do a very good job of protecting two relatives at one time before. You lost Regulus. You can’t fail that way again.’_

Bella went upstairs and grabbed a small backpack – the one on which she’d placed an Extension Charm years ago – and began to sort through belongings she knew she would need. Clothing, potion ingredients, a larger amount of gold than she would ever likely need… She would keep it close from now on, in case she ever had to run.

She was in the process of weighing the pros and cons of stuffing a mattress into the backpack rather than a sleeping bag when Kipsy popped out of thin air and, panting, announced that Dorsey was gone. Bella didn’t pause to ask whether “gone” meant he had vacated the premises or vacated his body. She just flashed Kipsy a smile.

“Go to Alice,” she said. “Tell her to meet at our usual rendezvous. Then we’re going home for a few hours.”

Kipsy lit up, Disapparated, and Bella suddenly felt very light. She rushed outside and Disapparated herself, appearing in the park, and rushing to the bench. She opened the backpack, pulled out a random book and sat, pretending to read.

Perhaps it was due to her own anticipation, but it seemed to take Alice an eternity to arrive, walk steadily to the bench and take her seat. Bella impatiently waited for her friend to open her book and then mutter, “I was beginning to worry about you.”

“I’ve been lonely,” Bella admitted. “But I’m still holding it together. You won’t believe what I’ve learned, and from You-Know-Who himself!”

“What is it?” Alice didn’t seem as perky as usual, but Bella was too excited to pay much attention.

“There’s been a prophesy that tells of a baby born at the end of July who could be You-Know-Who’s downfall,” Bella said in a rush. “A baby who can defeat him! _Born as the seventh month dies_. Alice, this could be what we’ve been waiting for all these years!”

She risked a glance at the Auror and was surprised to find Alice was no longer pretending to read her book. She was staring straight ahead, looking pale. “Alice?” Bella started, worried.

 _‘Pale like Narcissa,’_ Bella realized.

“Oh, Alice… Are you - ?” she began again. Alice turned her head to look at Bella, visibly shaking.

To hell with pretending they didn’t know each other. Bella hugged her close and Alice returned the embrace. “End of July?” she asked, and she felt her friend nod.

“He knows?” Alice whispered. “What will he - ?”

“Leave that to me,” Bella whispered back. “We’re supposed to bring names of families who might have a baby around that time so that he can keep an eye on them, but there’s no chance I’ll tell him about _you_ , Alice. I promise.”

“He can still find out,” she said, pulling away from her. “I’ve taken maternity leave from the Auror’s office. All he has to do is Imperiuse someone in the records department… And he will, won’t he?”

Bella closed her eyes in response. It was true. Nott had been ordered to do precisely that. There was no way Voldemort wouldn’t learn of Alice’s pregnancy. The Auror and her family would have to hide. That would mean no more secret meetings with Bella. It was a hard blow.

“Give him my name, Bella,” Alice whispered.

“What?” Bella gasped. “No! How can I - ? Alice, you’re my _friend_!”

“And you’re mine,” Alice countered. “I won’t have you killed because he somehow learns that you knew about me and kept silent. The Order can protect me. I’ll be fine.”

“Alice – ”

“Bellatrix,” Alice said softly but firmly. “You can’t be a proper godmother if you’re dead. Do it.”

Bella blinked, taken slightly aback. Had she said godmother? Alice laughed softly at her expression and took her hand. Still, Bellatrix couldn’t manage a sound.

“A woman strong enough to work undercover as effectively as you have for as long as you have…” Alice marveled. “You’re the perfect person to look out for my child should something happen to me.”

“Alice, I don’t want to do this,” Bella said, fighting back tears. “I’d rather take you and your family and my family and run. Run away and never look back, especially if your baby might be the one he’s after!”

“I know,” Alice said. “But we can’t protect the rest of our world that way. I’m not going anywhere.”

“Then,” Bella swallowed hard. “I suppose I’m not either.”

“Give him my name. I’ll be ready.”

~

In spite of Alice’s assurances, Bellatrix could not bring herself to give Voldemort the Auror’s name. Certainly he’d obtain it from Nott, but Nott would have a ready explanation for how he came by the information. Bella was too shaken to think of one on her own after their meeting. At least, that’s what she told herself.

Instead, Bella recruited her sister – not for the undercover work, but for the search. The more names Bella knew about, the more she could feed to the Order through Alice, warning as many people as she could. But all Narcissa had to know was that baby shops were a good place to learn who was and wasn’t pregnant.

Narcissa played along, because it was a solid plan and because she needed to prepare for her own child anyway. So the sisters disguised themselves a bit, just for good measure, magically changing their faces and hair for the day, and were off. Bella had even magically created a false pregnant belly to mimic that of a woman about six months along. That way, they could split up if they needed to.

They were laughing and talking and entering their fourth shop when they met up with a pretty red-head in a baby furniture store. She was admiring a very cozy-looking little crib and smiling dreamily. Bella picked up on it immediately.

“Oh, Callie, look!” she gushed, joining the red haired woman at the crib and using the false name she and Narcissa had agreed on. “Isn’t it sweet?”

She smiled at the woman who smiled back as Narcissa joined them and ran her hands along the rail of the little baby bed.

“It’s a bit small for the room, though, isn’t it, Charis?” Cissy asked, jumping in to play her part.

“A bit,” Bella agreed, sounding disappointed. Then she smiled wryly at the red head and rolled her eyes. “My husband is insisting on a nursery large enough for ten children!’ she laughed. “Firstborn, you see. He’s a bit too excited for his own good.” Then she turned to Narcissa. “But it would fit _your_ nursery, wouldn’t it?”

“Yes, but I don’t want to buy the first one I come to, either,” Narcissa laughed.

“You’re both expecting, then?” the red head smiled. “I just found out a couple of weeks ago, myself.”

Bellatrix offered her hand, “I’m Charis Dorsett, and this is my sister, Callie.”

“Lily Potter,” the red-head replied.

“So you’re due about mid-summer then?” Narcissa asked and Lilly nodded. “Not long after me.”

“My husband’s a bit like yours,” Lily told Bella. “This is our first child, as well. He keeps buying toy broomsticks and Quidditch supplies, and so on. I told him not to get ahead of himself; he doesn’t even know if the baby will like to fly! But you know men…”

“I can hardly wait for these last few months to be done with,” Bella said. “John’s been talking a big game about how he’ll be up to take care of the baby at night, right along with me…” She rolled her eyes, but smirked to Lily.“I intend to _force_ him to keep his word!”

“Not me,” Narcissa said, placing a hand over her unborn child. “I’m keeping this one to myself as much as I can. I rather like the idea of spending time alone with my little one no matter what hour it is.”

“So she says _now_ ,” Bella stage whispered to Lily, making her laugh. “But wait until the sleep deprivation sinks in!”

Still Bella smiled at her sister and tried not to feel the jealous pang in her heart. She wouldn’t even have the possibility of a child until she finally got home. But with any luck, that might not be too long from now. The sisters gushed and shared a few more moments of conversation with Lily Potter before settling on a few items that Narcissa actually _did_ need. Then they headed for another store to find more possible matches for their search.

~

“Three names?” Voldemort did not sound pleased. “That’s all we have?”

“Lovegood, Longbottom, and Potter, My Lord,” Nott affirmed.

“That’s _all_ we have?” Voldemort repeated. The sharp edge to his voice spoke volumes.

“For that time frame, My Lord,” Bellatrix gently corrected him, looking over the parchment in her hand with the names they’d gathered. “But there are more names due a bit later who could potentially have a slightly premature birth, and that brings the total up to seven. And, truly, My Lord, the fewer names there are, the better.”

She looked up at Voldemort, and behind her Nott was nodding slightly. “I agree, My Lord,” Nott said. “A short list means we’re not spread thin.”

No one else was in the room. That bothered Bella. She didn’t know why the other Death Eaters were not involved in this conversation, but it made her nervous. Still, her Occlumency was doing its job. She wondered if she’d be able to stop using it once she was free of this dark wizard’s clutches. Was it possible that she’d operated under the mental armor for so long that it simply didn’t come off anymore?

“What’s going on in that pretty head of yours, Bellatrix?” Voldemort asked her. Bella blinked and looked up at him again. She’d been staring off into space and hadn’t even realized it.

“Hmm?” Bella replied with a distracted tone. “Oh, forgive me, My Lord. I was just thinking… Is there any way we can know for certain which child is the one we must do away with? After all, two of these children will be Purebloods. It would be a pity to do away with them if it isn’t entirely necessary.”

She was immediately furious with herself. She was setting up that pretty red head for disaster! But then, she was also trying to protect her future godchild. Bella wasn’t certain anymore which was the right path to take. No matter what she did, one of these three families would be targeted for destruction. But was it fair for her to steer Voldemort toward either the Potters or the Lovegoods simply to protect the Longbottoms? She doubted it.

She was so absorbed in her own thoughts, she didn’t even notice when Voldemort waved Nott away, dismissing him from the room. Suddenly, it was only Voldemort and herself, alone in this large meeting hall, with no one else around. It took her several moments to realize it, but when she did, she took special care to keep on the mask of the obsessed devotee, mulling over the problem at hand. She didn’t know exactly what was about to happen, and she didn’t like being alone with this man, but she had no clear exit.

“Bella,” Voldemort said softly. “Your sister is pregnant.”

“Yes, My Lord,” Bella said, a bit dismissively. “But the baby is due in early June at the absolute latest. And a child born on _our_ side is hardly anything to be concerned about – ”

But Voldemort pressed on. “Most of my followers have children,” he said. “But not you and Rodolphus. Why is that, Bella?”

She stopped short, but then, as it sank in what he was asking, she leaned in closer. “Respectfully, My Lord,” she said quietly. “If _you_ were a woman, would _you_ let Rodolphus touch you?”

Voldemort laughed – and it was a real laugh, long and hard. Soon there were tears streaming down his face and Bella found herself laughing as well. She couldn’t help it. After all the years of hexing Rodolphus for trying to come into her room at night, after all the times she’d refused her husband, it was rather nice that someone else seemed to agree with her. Even if it was someone like Voldemort…

“Bella,” Voldemort said as he regained control of himself. “Are you telling me that you and your husband have never – ”

“ _Never!_ ” she interrupted harshly.

“You’re a virgin, then?” he asked and Bella flashed him a wry smile.

“I never said _that_ , My Lord,” she replied. But then the weight of her predicament suddenly struck her. She was alone with this man who she secretly hated and feared, but pretended to adore. And she had just admitted that her marriage was a sham.

She felt like an idiot.

More specifically, she felt like an idiot who needed a fast excuse to get away before Voldemort decided that he was free to take certain liberties with her. She felt her pulse racing, and wondered if he could tell. If so, did he think she was afraid or did he assume from her prior behavior that she would be receptive to him, that the sudden rush of blood was due to anticipation? In all her years undercover, she’d never felt more trapped than she did now, not even when she had thought he was going to kill her right along with Regulus. What was she going to do?

“Tell me, Bella,” Voldemort said, moving in far too close to her for comfort. “Is there a reason a proper Pureblood, like you, doesn’t want to continue the wizarding race with a child of her own?”

“My sister will make a good mother, My Lord,” Bella said. “I’m not so certain I can say the same thing for myself.”

It was, of course, a lie. Of the three sisters, it was Bellatrix who had always most wanted children. And she would be the last to have them. Assuming she even survived this war to have a child at all…

“What if I told you I disagreed with your assessment?” Voldemort was asking her.

 _‘I’m about to be raped, I just know it,’_ Bella thought. She had no choice but to smile wryly and shake her head.

“And why does My Lord disagree?” she laughed. “You’ve never seen me with children.”

“But,” he countered. “I _have_ seen the way you regard your sister. And it’s changed since she became pregnant. Gentler, more protective…”

He was leaning in, his hot breath on her neck, in her ear, and Bella fought with herself to keep from shuddering. She tried to smile to appease him, tried to dismiss the idea with her body language. Most of all, she tried to pretend she didn’t realize what he wanted from her. But he was so very close…

 _‘He only wants physical gratification,’_ Bella realized. _‘There’s no love in him. He knows nothing of love. He thinks that if he says the right things, makes the right moves that I’ll simply…’_

Perhaps that was an advantage. Everything was always about _him_ , so why not turn that back on him? She’d been avoiding it before, but now she deliberately turned her face towards his. He tried to kiss her, but his lips met the fingertips of the hand she had gently placed between them. She gave him a small smile that she hoped looked regretful.

“Forgive me, My Lord,” she said softly. “But I can’t.”

“Can’t, Bella?” he asked. His tone was almost angry. He was used to getting his way.

“I’m flattered, Lord Voldemort, really,” she explained. “It’s just that I couldn’t stand it if you lost trust in me.”

Now he looked curious. “And why,” he began. “Would I lose trust in you for pleasing me?”

“I have a lover,” Bella confided. “Only one. And I have a leader. Again, only one. I adore both, and, so far as I know, both trust me explicitly. But if I betray one, then how will the other ever put his faith in me again?” She shrugged and finished very simply, “So, I _can’t_.”

Voldemort stepped back and regarded her. “Noble House of Black, indeed,” he murmured.

“If I weren’t involved with someone else, My Lord,” she began, but he waved her off and she took the opportunity to leave, forcing herself to place a small kiss on his cheek as she went. That was the fastest, most sure way to show that she was still his ally, securing her cover.

She wanted to go to Morgan Manor, but couldn’t bring herself to go. Her family would know she was upset, sense she was afraid, and make her tell them what had happened. She didn’t want to taint her home with her undercover life. And telling them would mean thinking about what she’d so narrowly escaped, what could have happened. She didn’t want to contemplate how close she’d just come to experiencing the worst sort of violation. For the first time since her marriage to LeStrange, it was easier to go to the house she shared with him than it was to go to her real home.

The moment she arrived, she went upstairs, ignoring Rodolphus and his questions about what had happened at the meeting with the Dark Lord. She entered the bathroom, locked herself in, and stepped into the running shower, clothing and all, sat down and began to cry. It was hours before a terrified Kipsy was able to talk her into shutting off the water.

~

“Mistress Bella should take better care of herself,” Kipsy was saying as she worked the tangles from Bella’s hair. “Mistress Bella is going to get sick if she does not.”

Bellatrix was getting used to these lectures from Kipsy. She’d been out all night, every night for nearly two weeks, trying to find some way to protect three pregnant women who did not know she was following them. All the while, she was expected to report back to the man who was threatening them and give him information regarding their condition and the status of their pregnancies and whether it looked as if they would truly deliver at the end of July.

What she could tell him this early, she had no idea, but the deep late-December snow (and the fact that she’d stayed underneath the Longbottoms’ parlor window all night, sitting in it) told her that the elf was probably right. She could already feel her throat getting sore. But she’d been worried that anything she did to keep warm, whether she used magic or not, might be noticed, so she’d sat in the cold.

“Mistress Bella will not be able to protect anyone if she freezes to death!” Kipsy said, sounding like the mother of all mother hens. “Mistress should just send Kipsy at night to stay inside at the Longbottoms and protect them. Kipsy can get Mistress Bella if she is needed.”

Bellatrix blinked. She looked blankly at Kipsy for a moment. Then she berated herself for her foolishness. She’d been trying to do everything on her own, and there was no need for that.

“You’re right,” she said.

“Now, Mistress,” Kipsy began firmly. “Kipsy means it! Kipsy – Oh…” The elf broke off, surprised that Bella wasn’t arguing, and the witch laughed softly.

“You should go tonight. Just alert me if anything happens.”

“Yes, Mistress,” Kipsy sounded relieved. "Kipsy will be happy to do that." The elf hugged her from behind, and met her eye in the mirror of the vanity where Bella sat. Kipsy smiled just a bit and looked over their reflection.“Mistress Bella is _still_ too pretty for LeStrange.”

“And _you_ ,” Bella smiled. “Are still the best elf and the best friend that ever lived.”

“Does that mean Mistress Bella will tell Kipsy about the night she came home and took a shower for three hours in her clothes?”

“It means,” Bella said quietly. “That I would never be cruel enough to put that night in your head. I wasn’t injured, Kipsy. It isn’t about what _did_ happen. It’s about what _didn’t,_ but _might’ve._ Understand?” Silence answered her. “I’m fine, Kipsy. I am. I promise.”

The elf nodded reluctantly, and let the subject drop.

~

“The Lovegood woman has miscarried,” Lucius reported at their next meeting. “We can take her name off the list, My Lord.”

“There are now nine confirmed pregnancies due in August,” Bella reported. “But none are expected earlier than the twelfth.”

“You’re sure of that information?” Rookwood asked in a tone meant to challenge her.

“As sure as anyone can be,” Bella replied dismissively. “They’re babies, not pot roasts. They’re not set to a precise timer.”

“Very well,” Voldemort said. “We’ll concentrate on the Longbottoms and the Potters.”

“I’d be more concerned with the Longbottoms, My Lord,” Rosier said quickly. “A Pureblood child is surely a greater threat. After all, the Potter woman is a Mudblood.”

“But the child of the Mudblood is the one mucking up the purity of the wizarding race,” Rookwood countered. “Surely that’s a threat in itself.”

“But not one specifically against our Lord!” Avery insisted.

As the others argued, Bellatrix watched Voldemort, waiting to see which side swayed him. And hating herself for hoping he’d go after the Potters. She had nothing against the pretty red-head. In fact, basing an opinion strictly on the few moments’ conversation they’d shared, she’d rather liked her. But Lily Potter was not carrying Bella’s godchild. Family made all the difference.

“Bella, Severus,” Voldemort said, waving everyone else into silence. “Neither of you are offering your own thoughts on the matter.”

“I don’t know what to think, My Lord,” she said. In spite of her desire to protect Alice and her baby, Bella just couldn’t let herself make Lily a target. “And ultimately, it matters more what _your_ opinions are.”

“For once,” Snape said, in his slick voice. “It seems that Mrs. LeStrange and I are in agreement.”

Bella turned and met his eyes. Then it hit her. Early on at Hogwarts, Snape had been friends with a girl named Lily Evans. A red-head, as Bella recalled. Were Lily Evans and Lily Potter the same person? Bella only vaguely remembered her from their school days, but suddenly she was certain of it.

 _‘You’re protecting someone, too, aren’t you, Snape?’_ she thought. _‘Perhaps I was wrong… Perhaps we’re not too much alike to be friends… I think I’ll check in with you privately later.’_

“Perhaps,” Bella said, forcing herself to look away from Snape. “We should reserve judgment for now. As I said, there’s nothing absolutely certain about any pregnancy. It’s early on yet. And there’s already been one miscarriage. It’s possible the list may narrow further on its own.”

“Again, I agree,” Snape said. “I recommend waiting and watching.”

“Look at that, Snape,” Bella said with an ironic smile. “You agreed with me twice in a row and your head didn’t explode or anything. How miraculous!”

Snape ignored her, which made her grin. Everyone argued for a few minutes more, and her exchange with the greasy-haired man was forgotten in the general squabble. Voldemort assigned a few tasks, requested to meet with a few of them in private, and Bella was deeply relieved when she landed in neither category.

As the meeting broke up, she caught up with Snape and pulled him aside. He pulled away and kept walking, but she stubbornly kept pace with him. She wasn’t that easy to shake.

“Snape, listen to me for a moment,” she whispered. “Please, is there someplace private where I could talk with you? It’s important.”

“What important matter could I possibly need to discuss with _you_?” Snape dismissed her.

“Lily Evans,” she said firmly. “Oh, sorry, her name’s Potter now, isn’t it? But it wouldn’t have been if you’d had _your_ way.”

He stopped cold, glared at her. “I have nothing to discuss with you,” he informed her, and then Disapparated before she could object.

“You don’t fool me, Severus Snape,” she muttered to herself. “We’ve both got someone to protect.”

~

Voldemort had taken their advice, hers and Snape’s. He’d decided to wait. That gave Bellatrix time to send Alice a warning through Kipsy that the Dark Lord had indeed narrowed his focus to just the two families. That bought the Longbottoms and the Potters enough time to go into deep hiding.

Even so, by early August, word had reached Voldemort that both children had been born at the very last of July. Kipsy managed to smuggle Bella a picture of her little godson, Neville, and Bella looked forward to the day when she could meet him in person.

In the meantime, there was torturing and injuring and a host of other atrocities to commit in the pursuit of information regarding the whereabouts of both families. Bella had asked to become the Longbottoms’ Secret Keeper. Who better to keep them safe than the last person Voldemort would ever suspect of disloyalty? But they had refused, concerned that if Bellatrix were discovered she’d be killed.

It seemed, however, that the Potters _did_ have a Secret Keeper, and Voldemort was furiously searching the entire country for any sign of who this guardian might be so that he could force whatever information out of him that he could. A lot of the members of the Order of Phoenix got caught in the crossfire as he scoured the population for any hint of where the two families were hiding.

Bellatrix was suddenly glad she hadn’t spoken with Snape, as he seemed the most determined of all to find the Potters. She’d misjudged him; he wasn’t trying to protect Lily. Apparently, he was one of those monsters who thought that if he couldn’t have the girl, _no one_ could – even if that meant killing her.

Luckily, Bella was not assigned the task of searching for the children. Instead, she was given the job of sorting through the tips and passing them on to those who were in the field doing the grunt work. It put her in a good position to slow things down. If she felt a tip was unlikely or from an unreliable source, she was allowed to look into its origin personally. And – because she was thorough, of course – that sometimes took awhile. It also allowed her to “lose” at least a few credible tips into the wastebasket she’d dubbed The Bin of Worthless Clues, which she incinerated at the end of each day.

Voldemort had even gone to the extreme of putting a desk and a filing cabinet in the back of the meeting hall to give her a place to work. Bellatrix was worried at first that this would mean she’d be stuck alone with him again at some point, but she wasn’t sure how to get out of it. As it turned out, however, Death Eaters were in and out of the hall all day, every day, bringing tips and hints, or dragging in victims to torture for information. 

Of course, there were problems with that arrangement as well.

“What do you mean, Bellatrix?” Dolohov bellowed at her. “It’s a perfectly reliable tip!”

“From a man you tortured for sixteen hours, Antonin?” she laughed. “He’d have told you the ocean was pink if it would’ve stopped you from throwing one more Cruciatus Curse at him!”

“You’ve never had a problem with our methods before!” he objected.

“I’ve never had to be the one to verify the information we’ve gotten from them before!” she snapped. “Do you know how many false reports I’ve had to throw out? Want me to open the files and show you?”

“Never mind!” he all but screamed in her face and stormed off.

Bella watched him go, rolled her eyes for the benefit of those still in the hall, and went back to her desk. It wasn’t long before a shadow fell over her papers. She looked up to find a pale face smiling creepily down at her. She glanced around. Lucius, Crabbe, and Goyle were off in the corner, whispering together in an animated fashion. She was safe enough.

“Yes, My Lord?” she greeted him evenly.

“You seem to be tossing out quite a large number of tips, my dear,” he said. There was nothing dangerous or accusatory in his tone, but that meant nothing to her. She knew what he was capable of if he thought she was sabotaging his efforts. So she sighed heavily and glanced at the bin where she’d tossed the very worst scraps.

“Yeah,” she agreed. “I know. But to be fair, My Lord…” She reached in and pulled out one of the discarded notes and read aloud from it. “ _’A reliable tipster has indicated that there is a strong possibility that both families are residing together in Central Park in America’s New York City. They are reportedly disguised as homeless Muggles and living in a sewer to avoid detection.’_ ” She looked pointedly up at Voldemort. “Keep in mind that three of the four adults in question are Purebloods. Then factor in that there are two infants involved. Trust me, My Lord; no mother, especially a Pureblood mother like Alice Longbottom, would consent to living with her baby in a sewer for any reason. That’s especially true when you consider the fact that Muggles are easy to Confund into believing that they have been paid a monthly rent when they have received nothing.”

“And all the information you’ve discarded is of a similar nature?” he pressed, not entirely convinced.

Bella shrugged and reached for another note and began to read, “ _’A source known for providing good intelligence has passed on that the Potters have traded infants with another family in the hopes that He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named might simply kill the wrong child, ensuring that their son will live.’_ ” She rolled her eyes. “Again, no mother would trade infants with a woman who has a child that may be marked for death,” she said. “And there was one yesterday that said one of the babies didn’t actually exist, but that he was a house elf who’d been fed Polyjuice potion. _‘A clever decoy’_ , the tip called it. It’s nonsense!”

“A house elf?” Voldemort repeated.

“Bewildering, isn’t it?” She held up her hands in a helpless gesture. “I was actually so frustrated that I burned that one… Or, more accurately, I blew it up. I promise you, I’m not dismissing everything. All the tips that are proven to be valuable are going to the others as quickly as I can corroborate the intelligence. And, My Lord, I truly believe that things would go far slower if I had every Death Eater chasing down every ridiculous lead we’re fed.”

Voldemort seemed placated with her response and nodded. “I’m glad that you take the task seriously, Bella,” he said smoothly, and it was hard to tell if he meant it or not. “But what was it about Antonin’s information that caused you to doubt its validity?”

“I’ve noticed,” she said. “That the accuracy of the statements we obtain diminishes greatly when we torture our targets for extended periods of time – without allowing the subjects breaks during which they have the opportunity to think about the predicament they find themselves in. If we go for hours on end, they’ll throw out any scrap of information, truth or lie, in the hopes of buying themselves a few moments of relief. We also run the risk of driving the subjects completely insane, My Lord... which decreases their credibility somewhat.”

“So you suggest a modification of our tactics?”

“Yes, My Lord.”

“Very well,” he mused. “I’ll take it under consideration.”

He turned and walked away. Bella watched him go, wondering how close she’d just come to dying. She was wondering that a lot lately. But she’d already made up her mind; she’d rather die than betray her friends. She’d rather die than back down.

~

Bellatrix walked slowly towards the house she shared with Rodolphus. She had just been home and had a conversation with her lover and their family about the future and her mind was full of the comforts of home… and the misery of her work. It was risky, what the two of them had decided to try. Not only was it experimental, but the consequences of attempting to do this _now_ were potentially life-threatening. But Bellatrix was tired of waiting. This would be the only thing she’d done strictly for herself in years, and, although she was a bit frightened, she was deliriously excited. Kipsy walked with her, beaming happily up at her.

“How long will it take, Mistress?” Kipsy asked. “Well,” the elf amended, chuckling. “Kipsy knows _how long it will take_ , but Kipsy is wondering – ”

“How long until we manage to pull it off so that the real waiting can begin?” Bella finished for her, amused.

The elf laughed, “Well, yes, Mistress.”

“I don’t know,” Bella replied, feeling warm all over. “Soon I hope. I don’t know what I’ll _say_ to everyone, but I’ll think of something…”

Kipsy reached up, took her hand and squeezed it, but then her ears twitched. She heard something, and the smiles melted from both their faces. Kipsy Disapperated and Bella fixed her disinterested mask back on and began to move toward the house. Just as she reached the door, Rodolphus appeared, rounding the side of the house. He stopped short when he saw her, a bit surprised, it seemed, to find her standing there.

“Bella,” he said formally.

She raised an eyebrow and replied ironically, “Rodolphus.”

He stared at her silently for a few moments and she wasn’t sure what to make of it. Finally, he walked up to her and addressed her civilly, which struck her strange. “Bella, I’m sure you know I’ve been curious for years now about who this man is that you keep slipping off to see,” he said.

“So curious that you tried to have your brother’s elf follow me,” she nodded, and he winced.

“Yeah, that was stupid,” he admitted. “Honestly, I just wanted to know what family this man belonged to. Mine is an old family, like yours… And I suppose I wanted to know what match you felt was better than a match to a LeStrange.”

“It’s an old family, too, Rodolphus,” she said. “Pureblood, powerful, and very, very private.”

“I’m not going to ask after you anymore, Bella,” he said. “We’re on the same side, after all.”

There was something in the way he said it that made the happy, warm feeling she’d acquired from her visit home fade and helped the misery of her job overwhelm her. But she lifted her head, nodded, and entered the house alongside him.

Perhaps, if the experiment she was engaging in was successful, she’d have something happy to hold onto that none of the Death Eaters could steal away…

~

As the months melted away, Bellatrix was sorry to learn that the longed-for result she was hoping for from the experiment would be a victory even more elusive than she’d expected. Still, she hadn’t lost heart yet. Every failure, she assured herself, was simply showing her one more thing that _didn’t_ work, which would only lead her to something that _would_.

On a more depressing note, Bella was beginning to realize that Voldemort was focusing strictly on the Potters now. Alice was safe. Frank was safe. Neville was safe. Lily was not. Bella bitterly hated herself for her relief, even as she scrambled to find a way to stop Voldemort from harming the young family still at risk.

She was studying hard, trying to figure out what the other Horcruxes were. She knew from Narcissa that Voldemort had asked Lucius to guard an old diary. Odd thing was that it was blank. That raised her suspicions. It was a possibility. And it meant that she knew the location of three potentially dangerous items. What she couldn’t figure out was how to destroy them. It would also be nice to know how many there were, but one impossible problem at a time was quite enough to be going on with.

Then, on the Halloween following her godson’s first birthday, her Dark Mark began to burn. She was sitting at the supper table with Rodolphus and stood, looking at her arm. She glanced over at him. He frowned down at his own Mark and shook his head. Voldemort, it seemed, wanted her but not him. She tried not to read too much into that, but prepared herself, just in case.

Silently, she left the house and dutifully rushed to Voldemort’s side. When she arrived, Yaxley – a slightly unstable woman, by Bella’s estimation – stood laughing madly over a bound and gagged man who was whimpering at Voldemort’s feet. Voldemort’s pale features found her and smiled his snake-like smile. Snape was there as well, looking dispassionately down at the cowering figure.

“Bella,” he said smoothly. “So glad you could join us.”

“My Lord,” she greeted him. “What have we here?”

“This, my dear,” the Dark Lord replied. “Is Peter Pettigrew, and according to Severus, he’s a close friend of the Potters’.”

Bella observed the overweight man with new interest. If he was a friend of the Potters, could he help protect them? She searched the rather rat-like face and thought back. She dimly remembered him as a school boy, but the name didn’t ring a bell. But then, he was younger than she was and it was hardly unusual for an underclassman to go unnoticed by the older students, especially if they weren’t in the same House.

“Is that so?” she said, pulling off his gag. She leaned down to get a better look at him and he flinched away, crying. “What House were you in?”

“G-G-Gryffindor,” he whimpered pathetically, and she couldn’t help but laugh. This was a Gryffindor? This sniveling, cowed rodent of a man was a Gryffindor?

“You’re joking,” she said and he shook his head. Bellatrix looked disbelievingly at Snape. “Was the Sorting Hat drunk, d’you think?”

“ _Focus_ , Bellatrix,” Snape said impatiently.

“Focus on what?” she asked with a mirthless laugh. “He’s a pathetic, weak little nobody. What do you suppose he can tell us?”

“I was hoping you could help us find out, Bella,” Voldemort said. “It was, after all, _your_ idea to modify our techniques to obtain more accurate information. I was hoping you’d be willing to provide us with a practical demonstration.”

Bella wanted to kick herself. But she didn’t have that luxury. Instead, she smiled a cold, cruel smile and knelt on all fours to peer into Pettigrew’s face. She let out what she knew was a nasty laugh and tapped him hard on the forehead with her index finger, leaving a mark with her nail.

“D’you hear that?” she whispered to him. “I get to play with you!”

She stood and jerked him hastily to his feet with the flick of her wand. A rope flew from the drawer of her desk and bound itself tightly around his chest, suspending him in the air. She pointed her wand and made a little slashing movement, and a shallow cut appeared on his cheek, dripping blood into his collar.

“I suggest you talk sooner rather than later,” she said. “Tell me. _Who_ is the Secret Keeper for the Potters?”

Pettigrew began to sob. “Please… don’t – ”

“Oh…” Bella said through pouting lips. “I’m afraid that’s the wrong answer…” She gave her wand a sharp twist and the rope tightened, making him cry out.

“M-m-me!” he admitted. “I’m their Secret Keeper. It was supposed to be Sirius Black, b-b-but… He asked them to change it to me…”

Bellatrix kept her expression carefully blank. Her cousin was originally to guard this family? Was he really that close to them? Bella suddenly connected this man with the others. He’d been that lump of a child who had trailed after Sirius, James, and the quiet boy Remus Lupin. Her eyes narrowed.

“Wait…” she said. “I know you… I _know_ you! Only, they didn’t call you Peter, did they? They used another name… A nickname…” It came to her in a sudden flash. Regulus had told her about his brother and the Gryffindor boys he was friends with. “You’re Wormtail.” She narrowed her eyes at him further. “Why did they call you that?”

In response, the man began to shrink. Surprised in spite of herself, Bella stepped back, lowered her wand briefly, but then prepared herself for anything. Snape and Voldemort did the same, each drawing his wand, just in case. Yaxley stepped back with a reflexive hiss, and then laughed her lunatic laugh again. Within seconds, there was a rat on the floor in front of them and no man hanging in the rope. The rat tried to run, but Voldemort hit it with a spell and it turned back into Pettigrew.

“All right, Wormtail,” Voldemort said. “If you’re the Potter’s Secret Keeper, then tell me… Where are they now?”

Just like that, Bella’s worst nightmares were coming true. This was a situation in which she did not have time to warn anyone what was coming. She watched helplessly as Voldemort took over. The Gryffindor who never should’ve landed in Gryffindor put on a pitiful show and broke so easily that Bella wanted to kill him herself.

“Swear allegiance to me, Wormtail,” the Dark Lord hissed in the man’s ear. “Join me and I will spare your life. I will grant you your own small place in the new wizarding world that I intend to create. You are, of course, joining us far too late to receive the sort of treatment that Severus and Bellatrix will enjoy. But there may be some House Elf who will take pity on you and allow you to share his den and offer you the opportunity to assist with a few chores…”

She traded a look with Snape. Even for a dramatic sort, Voldemort was laying it on a bit thick. Whether Snape agreed or not, she couldn’t tell. His eyes were as impassive as the rest of his expression. If she could have seen her own face from his perception, it would have been like a mirror. Bella looked back to Pettigrew and silently willed the coward to prove that he’d belonged in his House, but he caved.

“I w-w-will do whatever… whatever m-m-m-my L-Lord asks of me,” he finally blurted out. And just like that, after all the months of her careful delaying tactics, her efforts at sabotage, her years of trying to stop the very worst case scenarios from coming to life, this one traitor – this fair-weather friend – ruined everything.

“My Lord,” Snape said several moments later, after Wormtail had given them the address at Godric’s Hollow. “Remember – ”

“You will have your reward, Severus,” Voldemort promised as he swept out of the room with Bella pushing the turncoat behind him.

“And what shall we do with _this_ , My Lord,” Bella asked loudly, gesturing to the rat-man contemptuously.

“Yes…” Voldemort turned back, wand at the ready. “Hold out its arm, Bella.”

She cut off his sleeve with a slash of her wand and did so willingly, knowing what was to come. If _she’d_ had to accept the Mark, then this villain certainly wasn’t getting out of it on _her_ watch. She ignored his blubbering and his screaming and watched the skull and snake tattoo materialize on his flesh.

“Welcome to the club,” she whispered harshly in his ear. “Glad you could join us.” He began to sob.

“Turn him loose,” Voldemort said. “He knows better than to ignore me when I call, I trust.”

Then, the Dark Lord disappeared into the darkness of that Halloween night. Bellatrix had not felt so empty in years. As quietly as she could, she snuck out, Apparated to Godric’s Hollow, and tried to find the address they’d just been handed. Maybe she could stop it. Maybe she could save the child who could be her last hope at regaining her freedom.

But she was too late. From upstairs, she saw a flash of green light and she flinched away, her hand going to her mouth to smother the sob that nearly escaped. But then she heard crying from the window upstairs. The boy was alive. She took a step toward the house, but got no further. There was a terrible explosion and the shockwave threw her backwards, into the bushes of the neighboring house.

She must’ve hit her head on the exterior brick wall and passed out, because she awoke to the sounds of a great commotion and a baby screaming. A trickle of blood ran down her face from a gash in her forehead. She felt dizzy, disoriented, and there was a ringing in her ears that made the other noises, the ones that had aroused her consciousness, seem strangely hollow and far away. She tried to sit up and nearly fell into the rosebush beside her. It took awhile to pull herself into a position from which she could see what was happening. Even then, her vision was blurred and doubled.

 _‘A concussion,’_ she thought. _‘I’ve a concussion.’_

With a supreme effort, Bella reached for her emergency backpack and dug around for something that would heal the injury. She finally found the vial she needed and drank the foul potion in a rush, ignoring the fishy after-taste. A few seconds later, the world felt right again and she realized that Dumbledore was there with that enormous Groundskeeper from the school. They had the baby. He was alive. But his parents…

 _‘Dead, of course,’_ she snapped at herself. _‘What did you expect? A miraculous survival? Resurrection?’_

But the child survived. And where was Voldemort?

Once everyone else had left the scene, Bella stood, Disapparated, nearly Splinched herself, and arrived in Knockturn Alley. She skulked through the streets and eavesdropped on any conversation she could reasonably overhear. For hours and hours, she stealthily wandered the country, Apparating to any wizarding place she could think of, and watched the celebrations spontaneously erupting as the news spread.

Voldemort was gone. Gone! It was wonderful, it was exciting, it was liberating!

 _‘It’s a lie,’_ Bella realized. _‘Horcruxes…’_

She had to warn someone. And there was only one person who would trust her. She had to get to Alice. But she was too tired to Apparate anywhere anymore. There was only one solution; the Knight Bus. She summoned it, got on board with several other people, on their way to a variety of end-of-war parties, and never realized she’d picked up a tail. The three men spread out, unnoticed in the thick throng of witches and wizards who were no longer bothering to keep their magic away from Muggle eyes.

~

Bellatrix arrived at the Longbottom’s and rang the bell. An elf opened the door, and she rushed in without waiting for an invitation. She found Alice and Frank standing in their parlor, dancing happily, holding each other close. Alice’s eyes were rimmed red with tears, undoubtedly from grieving her fellow Order members, but otherwise she looked happier than Bella could ever remember seeing her. Her gaze fell on Bella and she smiled, pulling away from her husband to welcome her friend.

“Bella!” she greeted her, but then stopped short when she saw Bella’s face. “What’s wrong? The war is over! If you want to meet Neville, you can, but he’s asleep. Bella, we can get you home!”

“No,” Bella said. “It isn’t over. Alice, I’ve got something you need to know. I should’ve told you sooner, but I was trying to get more information first.”

“Bella – ” Frank looked worried.

“Are you familiar with the term Horcruxes?” Bella demanded.

They both froze; their eyes wide with recognition and fear. They glanced at each other and then back at her. They were Aurors, both of them. They knew about all sorts of Dark magic that most of the population would never have heard of.

“You don’t mean to say – ?” Frank tried to say, but Bella’s expression was more than enough of an answer.

Bella was about to explain more, but the door exploded inward, and for the second time in twenty-four hours, her ears were ringing. Barty Crouch Jr. burst in with the LeStrange brothers on his heels. Bella raised her eyebrows, and drew her wand. She hadn’t expected them, but she’d be happy to kill them if she had to. Her godson was upstairs, after all. But Alice was quick and she took control of the situation before Bella could start mounting a defense of the Longbottom family that would likely have gotten her slain in their house.

“I’ve already told your friend,” she said to the men firmly. “We’ve no idea what’s become of your precious Dark Lord!”

Bella turned her back to the Death Eaters, blocking their view of the short woman.

 _“What are you doing?”_ she mouthed.

 _“Stalling,”_ Alice mouthed back. _“Neville!”_

Bella glanced over at Frank, just in time to see him discreetly send a Patronus out the window. She understood. If she could keep these men from killing them until back-up arrived, they’d all be saved. She just had to play the insane follower for a little longer.

“Not sure I believe her, Bella,” Rodolphus said, coming up on her right side.

“Nor do I,” Bella agreed.

 _‘The music plays on; an endless dance,’_ she told herself. _’And I’m beginning to miss a few steps.’_

Rabastan laughed and Crouch hit them with a Cruciatus Curse. Bella carefully kept her face blank. She couldn’t fail now. If these lunatics stopped torturing her friends, their next step would be to kill everyone in the house. So she had to keep them involved, trying all the while not to break down and cry, in hurting her friends.

She herself cast hex after hex on two of the people she’d been trying so hard to protect for years in an effort to keep them breathing. Upstairs, she hoped, Neville slept on, unaware of the horror taking place below him. If he awoke and cried, the screams of his parents drowned out the sound.

Bella had no idea how long it took for the Hit Wizards to get there. But when the Stunning spell finally hit her from behind, she had a split second to think to herself, _‘It’s about bloody time,’_ before she passed out.

~

Bellatrix woke up in a dark, stone room. She was cold, lying on a hard, rock floor. Cleanliness did not seem to be a concern here. And worst of all, there was no joy in the world. There was no hope, no happiness, no spark of light to chase away the gloom…

Azkaban.

She made herself sit up and look around. She couldn’t see the others anywhere – not the Death Eaters, and not the Longbottoms. Standing felt impossible, but she slowly managed to drag herself to her feet and staggered to the bars of her cell to look out. Her head was bleeding again and she watched in disbelieving horror as several officials drug her cousin, Sirius, down the hallway. He was laughing madly. Then he saw her.

She’d been wrong. His first laugh wasn’t mad at all. The second one was. She watched as they disappeared with him down the hallway. When the officials came back through, she called out to them. A short, toad-like woman looked up at her, smiling the sort of condescending smile that Bella had always hated. The others glanced at her, but didn’t stop.

“The Longbottoms,” Bella gasped. “Are they alright?”

The woman gave a girlish little laugh. “Is that a joke?”

“No!” Bella said desperately. “They’re my friends! I need you to get them to tell you what happened!”

“I know _exactly_ what happened,” the ugly woman said sternly. “Those _friends_ of yours are in St. Mungo’s and are quite unlikely to recover. Do you torture all your friends into insanity?”

Bella had been standing through sheer force of will, but now her legs gave out. She fell hard to the floor and found herself eye-to-eye with the official.

“I’ve been undercover,” Bella said in an empty voice. “For years… Alice was my contact… I’ve been feeding her information on the Death Eaters since 1971…”

“A likely story!” the woman scoffed and followed with another little-girl giggle.

“I mean it,” Bella said. “I’ll prove it. Get some Veritaserum; I’ll take it. Or a Pensive and I’ll _show_ you! I’m telling the truth.”

The woman drew herself up to her full, unimpressive height. “I have no time to waste on Death Eaters!” she said with her nose in the air. “And if I were a teacher, I’d make you do lines! I’d have you write _I must not tell lies_ and I’d have you write it in your own blood!”

Bella stared, uncomprehending, at the woman. Write lines? Had she really just said that?

“Please…” Bella said. “I’m not lying… And the war isn’t over. There are things I’ve got to tell the Ministry. When is my trail?”

That laugh was as hideous as it was repetitive. “Oh, _your_ trial is over!” the woman told her. “You’ve been out cold for days! Seems you had a head injury before they ever Stunned you. Besides, they felt it wasn’t necessary for you to be present, given the nature of your crime and the fact that you were caught red-handed.”

“But it wasn’t how it seemed!” she insisted. “And how could I not be present for my own trial?”

“Oh that was easy,” the witch giggled again. “I sat in for you. A bit of Polyjuice, a bit of talk to show your devotion to He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named, and no one knew the difference.”

“Wh-what?” Bella choked out. “That’s illegal!”

“I’ve no more time to waste on you!” the woman decided, and with that, she left Bella alone in the cell.

 _‘It isn’t over,’_ Bella thought. _‘And if they won’t believe me, that means I’m still undercover. I’ll have to pretend to be a Death Eater until he manages to revive himself with those Horcruxes. I’ll have to defeat him the second time around...’_ She squeezed her eyes tightly shut and began to cry. _‘I’m so sorry, my love… I may never get home to you now.’_

She wondered dismally if she even had enough good memories for the Dementors to feed on.


	9. Interlude Four: Immersion in Darkness

Somewhere below, a dog was howling. But nothing so good, so pure as a dog would be _here._ She knew that.

She knew her name once, but that was lost now. Sometimes, for a brief moment, she would remember it, but only through the tiny sliver of a single memory.

Why a memory like this survived in a hell like this, she had no idea, but every once in a while, there would be a flash of blue eyes, a sense memory of gentle hands on her body, and a whisper…

It was just a small, barely audible voice, gasping her name as if the two of them were deep in the throes of passion.

_Belle…._

Then it would come to her, the whole name.

_Bellatrix Morgan._

And she knew the name was hers.

“I’m a Morgan,” she would mumble, though whether she spoke out loud or not, she had no idea. “I’m a Morgan, I’m a Morgan, I’m a Morgan, I’m a Morgan, I’m a Morgan…”

And then, as quickly as it had come, the memory would leave her and she’d become what all the others were – mad, lonely prisoners, lost in their own misery, unable to focus on any other person or event in the world.


	10. Chapter Five: Glimmer of Light

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Trigger warning: non-con will appear in this chapter.

An explosion rocked her cell and woke her from a dream. There had been those hands, that voice, those eyes… and then there had been stones hitting her skin, and jolting her from the brief peace of unconsciousness. Her name was back again. Suddenly she knew her lover’s name again as well. The world felt less hopeless, though it was still a far cry from happy. She brushed the rubble from her hair and tattered clothes, noticing for the first time that she could see the bones in her hands, clearly defined through the skin.

She shakily rose to her feet, holding onto what was left of the wall for support and looked down at herself. The rags that covered her were loose and when she ran her hands down her ribs, she felt every bone prominently. Her waist was gone. Her body caved in where it had once been. She had become a living skeleton. How was she still alive?

Her mind slowly returned. Her Occlumency had dropped, but now she restored it out of instinct. Hands that were knotted and scarred, likely from years of pounding the rock walls with clenched fists, gripped her too-narrow shoulders from behind. A voice that might have been Rodolphus’ spoke, though it cracked, as if he hadn’t used his vocal chords for anything other than screaming for ages.

“Time to go, Bella,” he said.

“What’s happening?” she asked, and her own throat hurt from the effort of speaking.

“I’ve come for you, Bella,” said a voice she had hoped never to hear again. She turned and saw a face even more snake-like and vile than ever before. Red eyes found her dark ones and she lost her footing on a broken stone. She fell hard on her hands and knees and she had no energy to rise again.

“My Lord!” she gasped, awestruck. She was as relieved to see him as she was appalled that he was back. The music was back on, and it didn’t matter if her dancing skills had deteriorated or not – she was expected on the floor. She hated the dance, but at least it was getting her out of the clutches of the Dementors. “I knew you weren’t gone! I knew you’d come back! I knew it!” She sounded mad and she was acutely aware of it. But Azkaban was a mad place. And, after all, when in Rome…

“Yes, Bella,” Voldemort said, looking her over. “I’ve come back for you. Though I had hoped to find more of you left... Haven’t they fed you in here?”

“I don’t remember,” she answered, disturbed by her own honesty.

“No matter,” Voldemort replied. “We’ll have you healthy again in no time.”

No matter if they hadn’t fed her… She wasn’t surprised in the least by his tone or his reaction. She was more shocked to find herself slipping so easily into her old role as the betrayer hiding in plain sight. Alice and Frank were beyond her now, and she couldn’t reach out to Neville. Her godson had probably been told all sorts of things about the Death Eater Bellatrix LeStrange who had tortured his parents into insanity along with her husband and brother-in-law… Contacting him would only traumatize him.

“How long, My Lord?” she asked.

“I told you, very soon. You’ll be yourself again, as pretty as ever.”

“No!” she snapped. He turned, taken aback by her sharp tone. She adjusted it, putting on a desperate expression and struggling once more to her feet. “How long were we locked up?”

“Oh, that,” he replied dismissively. “Fourteen years.”

She collapsed once more, was barely caught by Rodolphus, and remembered nothing else for several days.

~

Bellatrix’s first memory after the escape was of waking up in a strange house with a Healer standing over her. She blinked. This wasn’t St. Mungo’s… Then she realized that the Healer was shackled to the foot of her bed by a chain that glowed green. His eyes were wide with fear, but he was himself, not Imperiused.

“Who’re you?” she managed to ask. But he shook his head at her. A soft laugh drifted to her ear from the doorway of the bedroom.

“Don’t worry, Bella,” Voldemort said. “He’s under control. And you’ve begun to heal nicely. It will take several years to regain _all_ the weight you’ve lost, but we’ll have you healthy enough to join us soon.”

“Us?” she asked. “Who else made it, My Lord?”

“Oh, several others,” he replied easily. “Malfoy, Snape, Crabbe, Goyle, Dolohov, a few others… We lost Crouch, unfortunately, to a Dementor’s Kiss.” Upon hearing this, Bella shuddered involuntarily. Feigning care for her well-being (a ploy to lure her back in to be sure), Voldemort rushed to her side and laid his long thin fingers on her shoulders, sitting perched on the edge of her bed like a concerned lover.

“Bella,” he whispered. He likely thought the tone would soothe her, but it lacked the warmth and sincerity needed for comfort. “The Dementors’ prolonged presence… You reacted to them differently than the others. It seems that they were able to maintain their physical health, but lost the sharpness of their minds and their memories. It’s had the opposite effect on you. Your body has deteriorated in spite of the food you were given, but your mind returned as forcefully as ever. I felt you think to yourself _I am Bella_ – and then your Occlumency fell right into place, as if it were never gone, shutting me out as effectively as if you had simply closed a door. You are a truly remarkable witch.”

She stared at him. How deeply into her mind had he trespassed? Did he know who her lover was? Did he know she’d given Alice every scrap of information she’d managed to get her hands on for years? She closed her eyes. She wouldn’t be able to risk visits home this time, though she knew her lover would still be waiting, even now. She couldn’t chance leading him to her family.

“We’ve managed to put enough meat on you for the moment to allow you to move about safely, though your muscles have atrophied. You may have to relearn to walk,” he said, but when she didn’t answer, he asked, “What are you thinking, my dear?”

“That I’ve lost fourteen years,” she replied blandly. “How do I come back from that?”

He smiled, and the sight of it chilled her to her core. With a flick of his wand, the Healer’s chains unwrapped themselves from her bed and snaked around the man’s body, binding him. Another gesture from the Dark Lord had the Healer locked in a wardrobe.

“Your belongings were recovered, by the way,” Voldemort said. “Your own wand is among them. And the backpack… You were planning on extracting information from the Aurors and then setting out to search for me, weren’t you, Bella?”

“Yes, My Lord,” she lied. “But I’m afraid I failed to follow my own advice…”

“They lost their minds and you were caught, I know,” he dismissed it as ancient history, and leaned in closer to her. “But that sort of _loyalty_ , Bella… That’s rare… You have earned your place at my right hand, as you swore you would so long ago.”

He was doing it again. He didn’t think of her as a friend, or a trusted advisor, but as a pawn. He still wanted her, but she wasn’t sure why. She couldn’t possibly be beautiful anymore, though she hadn’t seen a mirror. She knew the argument of a lover she hadn’t seen in nearly fifteen years wouldn’t sway him this time. Could she find another way to dissuade him? Was there something else she could use?

“Where are we?” she asked, stalling for time.

“This was my father’s house,” he told her, his hot breath on her face, her neck, in her ear. “And this was his bed. It’s quite possible that I was conceived in this room…”

So much for stalling… His lips pressed hard against hers, demanding, not asking, and she knew she wasn’t strong enough to force him away. Perhaps that was why he was after her now. He knew she wouldn’t be able to stop him.

“My Lord,” she tried to say, still searching for something that would cause him to back away. But he didn’t stop long enough for her to say another word, and his hands were pulling away the thin gown she suddenly realized she hadn’t been wearing before. Someone had redressed her, and she didn’t believe for a moment that the job had been done by an elf. Tears came to her eyes, but if he bothered to ponder the reasons she might be crying, it didn’t slow him down. His body pressed hard against hers, and there was absolutely nothing she could do… She felt her skin, paper-thin from the toll the stint in prison had taken on her, protest his touch and she cried out. Her fists pressed futilely against his chest and she tried to struggle away. Her feeble efforts were either ignored or unnoticed. She gasped in pain again and again as he pushed into her, but it made no difference.

It would not be the only time he came to take what he wanted from her. 

~

Day after day passed, until finally, under the care of the trapped Healer, she was able to take a few unsteady steps and cross the room. The effort exhausted her. Rodolphus and Rabastan visited in the late afternoons and it soon became clear that Rodolphus had believed all along that Voldemort had been her lover.

“I should’ve known, I suppose,” he told her one evening. “Who else could’ve gotten your attention and kept it for so long?”

She stared blankly at him. She had no idea how to respond to his assumption, and if Voldemort had led him to this belief, denying it would be calling the Dark Lord a liar. That could very likely get her killed.

 _‘Would that be a bad thing?’_ she asked herself.

Finally, she settled on saying, “Shut up, Rodolphus.” And she left it at that.

Her Healer never spoke much, except to explain what it was he needed her to do, to eat, or to work on in order to speed along her recovery. Until one day, after asking repeatedly, she finally got his name out of him.

“Alec Peterson,” he’d whispered in a rush, as if frightened that someone would overhear him speaking to her about something other than her health.

“Have you a family, Alec?” she’d asked softly and he nodded once, a bit curtly.

“Me too,” she whispered to him and he looked surprised. “I’d give anything to be back with them now.”

Alec looked over his shoulder. He seemed terrified that they would be overheard, but there was obviously something he wanted to say.

“There’s a potion for you,” he whispered, his voice barely audible, but urgent. “It’s in my coat pocket. You need to take it. Now.”

She pulled a vial from the pocket he’d indicated and looked at it. It was topaz in color and when she popped the cork in the top, it smelled a bit like eucalyptus. She looked up at him, questioning him with her gaze, and he motioned for her to take it quickly. She did.

Immediately she regretted it. It burned like fire going down and she began to cough. When it reached her stomach, it was as if the slow flame had erupted into a volcano. She moaned involuntarily, clutching her midsection, and Alec cursed under his breath.

“I was afraid of that,” he muttered.

“What’ve you done to me?” she gasped, frightened and angry.

“It’s a contraceptive,” he hissed to her. “I thought since he’d been raping you…”

“ _What_ were you afraid of?” she demanded. His hand clasped hers over her belly and she twisted on the bed, curling up into the fetal position, crying from the pain.

“Just hold on,” he told her. “It’s dissolving the pregnancy.”

“I’m pregnant?” she whimpered.

“No. Not anymore.”

Her eyes went wide and accusatory as the statement suddenly began to sink in. He had killed her baby? A baby she hadn’t even known she was carrying yet? She jerked away from him, fell off the bed and backed up fast, scrambling along the floor.

“What have you done?” she cried. “ _WHAT HAVE YOU DONE?!_ ”

He was truly terrified now and looked out the door to see if anyone had heard her scream. No one came and he took the opportunity to plead his case with her.

“I’m sorry, Bella,” he told her. “I didn’t think you’d want to carry his child! I’ve heard you mutter in your sleep about wanting to go home, and then when you said you had a family – ” He broke off, searching for the words, and trying to understand her sobs and why she was shaking her head at him.

“That doesn’t give you the right to abort my baby!” she sobbed. “That was _my_ decision to make, not yours!”

“I’m sorry!” he said, begging her. “Bella, I am!”

“Don’t tell me you’re sorry and _don’t_ call me Bella!” she yelled at him. “You haven’t got the right to be so familiar with me!”

“He was raping you! I wanted to help!” The Healer was panicking now. Bella could hear movement downstairs. “The contraceptive will stop you from getting pregnant again for the next few months, but it isn’t permanent! I promise!”

Footsteps were thundering up the stairs now. Bella knew that her screams would likely get him killed, but she couldn’t make herself stop. He’d killed her child – a child she’d wanted for as long as she could remember. Some small, cruel part of her whispered that it was justice to get him killed, but she battled against it, tried to quit crying. But she couldn’t make the others unhear what they had heard.

Rodolphus was the first into the room. He looked from the Healer, who was obviously terrified, to his wife, who was sitting on the floor in the corner, as far from the Healer as she could get with her body curled up in a ball. His eyes returned to the chained man and he looked furious.

 _‘My knight in shining armor,’_ Bella thought bitterly. _‘Come to save the day…’_

Voldemort himself was behind LeStrange, and Bella redoubled her efforts to stop crying. Still, it was useless. The fire was burning itself out now, but she couldn’t tear her mind away from what she’d just lost.

“What happened?” Rodolphus bellowed at the Healer. Alec backed away as far as his chain would allow him to go and shook his head. Bella could only watch.

“If you have allowed our Bella to injure herself, then I’m afraid this will be the end for you,” Voldemort said. His tone was no different than if he were ordering a tall, cold glass of pumpkin juice. It chilled Bella, and Alec kept looking to her, silently begging her for help.

“She was pregnant,” he said honestly. “She isn’t strong enough yet to survive a pregnancy. I was trying to save her!”

“Oh!” Bella scoffed, still crying, still angry, and unable to stop herself from speaking her mind. Her arms encircled her now-empty womb, a cliché of a tragic should-be mother in spite of the fact that she had once described herself to Voldemort as unfit for parenthood. The irony did not escape her. “A _well-meaning_ butcher! How very refreshing!”

Voldemort lifted his wand and Bella turned away from the flash of green light as if to hide her renewed sobs from the men. When she looked up again, the Healer was dead. Strong arms lifted her and placed her back on the bed. She didn’t bother looking to see who carried her. It didn’t matter.

“Bella,” Voldemort said. “Look at me.”

She slowly raised her eyes to meet his, unfooled by the false concern in his voice. She forcefully wiped the tears from her face, angry with herself when they were instantly replaced by new ones. She _didn’t_ want to carry a child fathered by this monster, but then she could never consider Voldemort to be a father at all. In her heart, the innocent child that had been stolen away had been hers alone. _Her_ baby… It wasn’t fair.

Voldemort said nothing more, however, and Bella wasn’t sure what he read in her expression. He nodded his head slowly and then left the room without even bothering to remove the corpse. Rodolphus sat beside her, at least, and tried to calm her, offering all sorts of useless things like a glass of water or an extra blanket. Finally, he sighed and she could see the helplessness in his eyes. He truly was trying to help. “Bella, please, just tell me what will ease you…”

“Narcissa,” she finally whispered. “I need my sister… Please, Rodolphus… Take me to Malfoy Manor…”

He didn’t question her, but obeyed instantly. He scooped her up, pausing only long enough to snatch up her bag, and rushed outside to Disapparate. He gently carried her to the door of the large estate where they were let in by an elf who was almost too short to reach the doorknob. The Malfoys were shocked by her appearance. Narcissa’s husband had never before seen her cry at all. And after a brief, whispered explanation from Rodolphus, not even Lucius could look at her without a touch of sympathy.

“If the Dark Lord asks about you, about where I’ve taken you,” Rodolphus said to her. “What do you want me to tell him?”

“The truth,” she replied, her voice raw. “That I insisted on coming… That after what that man did to me, I needed to be with my sister and out of the room where…” The tears were starting again, and she gasped for air. “I couldn’t be there anymore. I just couldn’t.”

A kiss touched her forehead and a handkerchief that smelled of peppermint wiped her face. She was surprised by the tenderness her husband was suddenly showing her. She didn’t quite know what to make of it. It might’ve been sweet… and then he spoke.

“I’m sorry about your child, Bella,” Rodolphus said. “You and the Dark Lord make a powerful pair. A Pureblood born of the two of you would’ve been a great asset. But at least the Mudblood was made to pay for his crime.”

Suddenly, just like that, it didn’t seem sweet at all.

~

Bellatrix was sitting in the bath, rocking back and forth in the water. She wasn’t sure why she said it out loud, but she heard herself say, “Kipsy, I miss you…” Then she let herself slip under the warm water. She wondered if drowning was a painful way to go and contemplated how long it might take. It couldn’t be worse than any other kind of death, surely. Would she be able to see her baby if she did it?

A darker thought hit her. Was the baby’s death painful? Had it suffered, burned alive inside of her as the potion attacked like lava? Would her little one even want to see her if she crossed over as well? Would the child blame her?

 _‘Why didn’t you protect me, Mummy?’_ She could imagine it asking. _’You were supposed to protect me! I was yours!’_

A face appeared, distorted by the ripples of the water over her eyes. Was it happening? Was she going to see the baby now?

But no. Small strong hands that couldn’t have belonged to a human child reached down and cradled her neck, pulling her up. Her face broke the surface of the water, and she gasped for air instinctively, but found no relief from her pain in her sudden ability to breathe. She began to sob and the elf, older now, but still her Kipsy, hugged her close.

“Mistress Bella!” the elf cried. “Oh, whatever was Kipsy’s Mistress trying to _do_ to herself?!”

“It’s gone,” Bella cried. “Gone… I was supposed to be a mother and it was taken…”

“But Mistress _is_ a mother!” Kipsy whispered quickly. “The experiment, Mistress, it worked!” 

The elf snapped her fingers and a photograph of a baby appeared from nowhere. Bella’s own dark hair and eyes shone up at her with a little-girl innocence and joy that Bella couldn’t remember possessing herself. Something in her soul stirred. Kipsy went on talking.

“Look, Mistress, look… Her name is Sophia and she is almost a year old now! She was to be a happy surprise for Kipsy’s Mistress Bella when the Morgans finally got Mistress Bella out of that no-good Azkaban and back home with her family where she belongs. Mistress Sophia is safe and well. Kipsy just left her a moment ago!”

“A… a daughter?” Bella asked, uncomprehendingly. “I have a daughter?”

“Yes!” Kipsy said. “Mistress Bella did not have being a mother stolen… Why did Mistress think so?”

Once Bellatrix had taken a deep, shaky breath and filled her in, Kipsy was quite likely the angriest elf that had ever existed. “Kipsy,” the elf said in a voice that was deceptively calm. “Shall fix this, Mistress. Kipsy shall fix _everything_.”

“No,” Bella said firmly, before the elf could Disapparate and head off to do something heroic and potentially fatal. “We’re still undercover.” The news of her living child had revived her a bit. She was certainly still grieving the baby, but she couldn’t give up now, no matter what atrocities were committed against her. She couldn’t allow Voldemort to continue existing in the same world as her little girl.

Kipsy looked as determined as Bella suddenly felt. “What does Mistress need from her Kipsy?”

Bella considered her for a moment. “I need to be updated,” she finally decided. “I need to know everything I can about what’s happened since I’ve been locked away. Go to the Daily Prophet. Get me back issues of every paper going back the last fifteen years. I’ll reacquaint myself with some old news and fill myself in on the new bits as well. Once you’ve brought those, I need you to quietly check on Neville and the Potter boy. Make sure they’re safe, find out what they’re up to, but don’t get caught. Your father might be useful in gathering some information as well. See what he might know. Once I’m up to speed, we’ll try to formulate a plan.”

“Yes, Mistress!” Kipsy nodded and Disapparated.

Bella pulled herself out of the tub, dried off, and dressed not in a nightgown, but in the pretty red dress Narcissa had brought for her to change into whenever she felt up to it. She looked in the mirror for the first time since she’d left the prison and was shocked by what she saw.

Was that _her_?

There, reflected in the glass before her, stood a near-skeletal body. She didn’t come close to filling out the dress owned by her younger, and normally much thinner, sister. Her face was skull-like, skin stretched tight over bone. Her once-shining hair was dull now and her dark eyes were hollowed out. Perhaps Alec Peterson had been right about her condition. Perhaps she _wasn’t_ far enough along in her recovery to risk carrying a child. Strangely, she didn’t feel terribly hungry. Even so, in light of her reflection, she thought she should eat.

She pinned back her hair and carefully hobbled to the stairs. When she reached them, she stared down at them, assessing them as one might a bottomless pit. Was she able to descend on her own, or should she ask for help? For just an instant, she pondered calling on an elf. But pride, while a sin, was often her downfall and she carefully tested the first step. She slowly managed to lower down her second foot and stood there for a moment. A single step down – an enormous victory! But not enough of a victory to get her to her ultimate goal for the afternoon – the kitchen. She paused to take a breath and slowly, oh so carefully, did it again. Another success! But now she was getting cocky. She moved too fast on the third step and her weakened ankle gave out on her. She made it to the first landing quickly, but in a far less graceful fashion than she had initially intended.

Narcissa heard the commotion and came running. When she saw Bellatrix, rolling to her hands and knees and trying to get up, she hurried to stop her. The pale woman’s hands pushed her into a sitting position and then Narcissa was kneeling in front of her gripping her arms.

“Bellatrix Ursula Black, what in the _world_ do you think you’re doing?” Narcissa demanded. “You could’ve broken your neck!”

“Yes, Mother,” Bella couldn’t help but smirk at her. Narcissa didn’t look amused. She was, in fact, on the verge of tears, and Bellatrix suddenly felt horribly guilty. “I’m sorry, Cissy,” she said in a gentler voice. “I’m hungry and I’m tired of bed. I wanted to do something myself instead of lying about like an invalid.”

“You _are_ an invalid at the moment,” Cissy told her, trying to sound harsh but failing.

“Perhaps,” she admitted. “I suppose I just needed to distract myself.” Her hands moved unconsciously to her belly, and then she caught herself and pulled them away. Narcissa’s hand found hers and held it.

“It was monstrous,” Cissy said sadly. “What was done to you… But, Bella, he didn’t take the baby just from _you_. I would’ve loved the opportunity to be an aunt to your child. There’s no shame in seeking a bit of help, you know, especially from family. I thought that was why you came here.”

“Being here _is_ helpful,” Bella said softly. “Just knowing that he can’t come for me whenever he wants to, that helps quite a lot.”

Narcissa looked at her curiously. “Who can’t?”

“ _Him_ ,” Bella said intently. “The Dark Lord.”

Now Narcissa looked worried. “Bella, are you saying you didn’t invite him to your bed? Rodolphus told us the two of you had been lovers for years.”

“For God’s sake, Cissy, no!” she sounded exasperated. “D’you think our parents would’ve pushed Rodolphus on me if I had been involved with the Dark Lord? They’d have been desperate to pair me with him if they thought they could do it! I have a lover, but it isn’t _him_!”

“But Rodolphus said that the Dark Lord had been going to your bed every night since he broke you out!”

“He has!” Bella said bitterly. “But not with my consent!” 

Narcissa went very pale indeed and then her face flushed red. Something dark flashed in her eyes and she looked over Bella’s head at someone behind the railing on the floor below. Panic struck Bella. Who was down there? Who had overheard?

Lucius slowly ascended the steps and met them on the landing. It didn’t look natural when he sank to sit on the floor beside them, but he did it and looked over his sister-in-law. She stared back, not knowing what to expect from him.

“Did this ever happen before you were locked away?” he asked her. His tone was gentle, almost tender. She’d never seen this side of him before. She glanced at her sister, looking for a reason to trust him, and was surprised when it was Lucius and not Narcissa who reached out and brushed an escaped lock of hair from her face. “Bella, tell me.”

“He tried once,” she admitted softly. “But I did a bit of fast talking and was able to get away.”

Lucius nodded and she could see him thinking to himself, though the content of what crossed his mind past those gray eyes, she had no idea. He lifted her up – and Bella realized just how many people were carrying her about lately – and walked downstairs with her. Narcissa followed. He settled her onto a couch in the parlor and gestured for his wife to tend to her.

A moment later, he’d ordered an elf to stoke the fire and he disappeared into another part of the house. Bella nearly fainted when Lucius himself returned with a tray of sandwiches and a pitcher of pumpkin juice and placed it on the coffee table. He handed her a plate, poured her a glass, and then did the same for Narcissa before taking a serving for himself and sinking into what was obviously his usual chair.

“You will not be left alone with him again under any circumstances,” Lucius said firmly, his voice calm and steady. “I don’t give a damn what it takes. I don’t know how we’re going to get out of this alive, but he’ll have no more true support from this household, no matter how long we have to pretend that he does. No one rapes a member of _my_ family and gets away with it; I don’t care who he is or how powerful he is. I won’t stand for it.”

“Lucius,” Bella smiled. “You have no idea how happy I am to hear you say that.”

Something in her tone caught his attention and he raised an eyebrow at her. Narcissa looked curious as well, and Bellatrix began to laugh, very aware that she sounded a bit insane. But she took control of herself and took a bite of her sandwich. It was the best she’d tasted in ages and she chased it with a mouthful of pumpkin juice.

“Let me tell you a story,” she began. “About an Auror and a Death Eater who was never a Death Eater…”


	11. Chapter Six: Arise

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Trigger warning: non-con will appear in this chapter.

In spite of his strong words, Bellatrix knew that Lucius was as terrified of Voldemort as she was. But he kept his promise and made certain that the Dark Lord never had exclusive access to her again. The Malfoys were her constant companions and, just to be safe, they ordered the tiny elf (whose name Bella learned was Nixie) to stay in Bella’s room at night in case she needed anything. That prevented Voldemort from slipping in without anyone else’s knowledge.

Bella was inexpressibly grateful and suddenly she understood what Narcissa had seen in Lucius so very long ago. He had his flaws, to be certain, but when it came down to it Lucius Malfoy was a true gentleman. What she had taken before to be an act to impress a young Pureblooded prospect of a bride had been no act at all. His chivalry had been genuine.

Both Lucius and Narcissa jumped into Bella’s undercover world with both feet, helping her bring herself up to date, using the newspapers Kipsy brought them as tools, and by filling her in on the bits and pieces that no news story would contain. Together, the three of them plotted and planned and came up with ways to communicate with each other in code.

“I’ve got to come off as completely round the bend, you know,” Bella said one day. “That should help hide some of our activity. No one will ask what Bella is doing because Bella is mad, that sort of thing… Lucius, I’ll be counting on you to pretend to have me on a leash, but not a strong one.”

“That should prove interesting,” he muttered under his breath.

“And you both need to practice your Occlumency.”

“I’m afraid we’ll never quite be up to _your_ standard on that, Bella,” Cissy laughed.

“I don’t know how _you’re_ up to your standard,” Lucius commented. “But you’re right. We’ll need you to teach Draco as well. I’ve shown him the basics, but you’re the master.”

She nodded. “I can do that.”

“You’re going to have to exercise more, too,” Lucius told her and Bella pretended to be offended before flashing him a grin.

“Cissy, explain to him that exercise makes one _lose_ weight and I’m trying to _gain_ it,” she teased.

“Muscle weighs more than fat,” Lucius countered. “And you need to build yourself back up. Isn’t that what the Healer said before he got what he had coming to him?”

She nodded, but she didn’t like thinking about Alec Peterson. She wasn’t sure whether to count him as villain or victim, and pondering the question disturbed her. Lucius picked up on her mood and altered the subject to exclude the dead man.

“Then we should create an exercise program for you to compliment a diet geared toward recreating the powerhouse that once put out a cigar on Rodolphus’ tongue.”

That made her laugh. “God, I’d nearly forgotten about that!”

Again, Malfoy was true to his word. It took less than two weeks of good food, good exercise, and a few potions brewed to supplement her diet to get her steady on her feet again. No one had to carry her anywhere anymore. The staircase was no longer her enemy, though she still had to tackle it slowly. She put on a bit of flesh, but wasn’t back to her normal weight by a long shot. Her face was still reminiscent of the grave, but she felt better than she had in years. And everyone assured her that eventually, if she kept up what she was doing now, she’d be truly healthy again someday.

Then they began to discuss the Horcruxes. Narcissa suggested quietly guiding the Potter boy into the path of the items whenever possible. That way, their destruction couldn’t be traced back to the three of them. Of course, that meant they’d have to figure out what all of the Horcruxes were… Lucius confided in them about the old diary’s ultimate destruction – stabbed with a Basalisk fang.

“Why in the world would you give something like that to a little girl?” Bella asked him, shocked, after he’d told her the whole story.

“As far as anyone knows, I was trying to discredit her father before the Ministry,” he said. “But the truth is that diary unnerved me. I wanted it out of my house. I thought the girl would confide in her friends and that _they_ would recognize it as something dangerous and convince her to turn it in to Dumbledore. I thought _he’d_ find a way to destroy it. It’s hardly as if I could just give it to the man myself, after all. I might’ve been arrested for possessing it and then you and I could’ve had adjoining cells in Azkaban.”

“Even so, Lucius,” Bella said, shaking her head.

“I know,” he said, and she could see the shame in his eyes. “Not my proudest moment to be sure…”

He went on to talk about the sword of Gryffindor and how it had been used to kill the snake in question. That sparked Bella’s interest. If Voldemort knew – or found out – that the sword, which absorbed anything that might make it stronger, had killed the snake, he would also know that the sword could destroy his Horcruxes…

So what if, Bella had suggested one night, they were to forge a duplicate of that sword. They could wait until Voldemort learned it might harm his Horcruxes, pretend to have acquired it somehow, and then store it in her vault along with the cup in an effort to “prevent” someone from using it against the Dark Lord. There were flaws in their scheme that would have to be worked out, but with the proper planning, it could eventually work.

The only subject on which she truly disagreed with her sister and brother-in-law seemed to be on the matter of their apparent trust in Severus Snape. Bellatrix had never forgotten how eagerly he had sought out the Potters or how he had been the one, along with Yaxley, to capture their Secret Keeper. But Lucius and Narcissa insisted that he was trustworthy, and that he had taken excellent care of Draco throughout the boy’s time at Hogwarts.

Voldemort had not forgotten them, however, and all the while was planning to get his hands on a prophesy that resided in the Department of Mysteries. Wormtail, the sniveling little coward, would rush about at meetings, made to serve them like a house elf. He annoyed her and she began to take out her frustrations on him, treating him like vermin in front of the others so that no one could question whether she was up to the task at hand. If she had the energy to be cruel to the rodent, then she _must_ be regaining her strength. Besides, it was cathartic to treat the spineless little traitor like she’d scraped him off her boots. 

They all plotted and planned with Voldemort, suggesting ideas for attaining the little crystal that contained the prophesy in question. Bellatrix made certain she sounded a little on the insane side, overzealous to the point of madness, and the Malfoys carefully whispered that the loss of her baby had done something to her psyche, which was arguably already fragile from her time in Azkaban.

When they were finally sent to do battle at the Ministry in the Department of Mysteries against a group of schoolchildren, Bella was both surprised and proud to see her godson among them. He looked so much like his mother that it made her heart ache. But she deliberately behaved like the monster she knew he would believe her to be. She would have to remember to leave Neville a letter in her will, in case she died in this war, explaining to him everything that had happened. It would, of course, be up to him whether or not to believe her, but she needed to make the effort.

She concentrated on the Potter boy as much as she could, mocking him, taunting him. Lucius did his job, pretending that he had a loose sort of control on her, that he was the only person present to whom she _might_ listen. The problem was, she and the Malfoys had figured out that _they_ needed that prophesy as well. If they couldn’t learn precisely what it contained, then the way to destroy Voldemort would remain a mystery to them. She tried to summon it, but the boy was fast. He blocked her spell. She acted as if she might attack him and Lucius, again, pretended to stop her, knowing that she never intended to strike. The two of them were getting good at this game.

Bella removed her hood and stepped forward, counting the children. If they were half as good as Draco claimed they were, they would work together, guard each other. Her eyes fell on the red-headed girl.

“Take the smallest one,” she suggested, testing her theory. Sure enough, the group closed ranks around her.

 _‘Good,’_ she thought. Potter defiantly told her she’d have to destroy the prophesy to get to them, and she could see why he’d been placed in Gryffindor. Though, she supposed, had he been a Ravenclaw, he’d have likely known better than to run off to the Ministry in the middle of the night with no solid plan, no escape strategy, and no adult members of the Order to protect his friends. But she could hardly claim her entry into the Death Eater’s group for the purpose of spying had been thought out any better. She watched him and licked her dry lips, hoping she looked intimidating. Inside, she was terrified. How was she going to get out of this without killing these babies?

Then Potter asked what kind of prophesy he held. Bella truly thought he was joking. Dumbledore hadn’t told him? Then the child spoke Voldemort’s name and all the Death Eater’s recoiled. It sent a shiver through her. She, like everyone of her generation, was instilled with fear at the mention of the Dark Lord, and to hear the name out loud – she could hardly stand it. She pretended to be angry rather than frightened, however and went on the attack, insulting him, calling him a Half-Blood, as if that were an insult. She tried to sound like her mother, spewing Pureblood nonsense as if it meant something.

“Did you know he’s a half-blood, too?” Potter taunted. Bella was impressed with his brass, but thought he’d have done better not to say that. Not all the Death Eaters present were secretly on his side, after all. To shield him, she threw a half-hearted spell his way, trusting Lucius to knock it off course, which he did easily. But they had made it look good. They shattered several prophesies still sitting on the shelf.

Bellatrix narrowed her eyes. If those shelves came down, the kids would have a shot at getting away. Would they think of it? She could only hope so. She pretended to struggle against her brother-in-law, acting as insane as she could manage, throwing insults about Potter. She wished that she and Lucius had been sent on this mission alone. Her own performance was making her want to roll her eyes.

Potter asked again about the prophesy, and she began to realize that Dumbledore really hadn’t told him anything about it. She was surprised. Unless… Was the old fool treating Potter like a child? A little boy who needed protection? Yes, he was young, but had the old man shielded him this much? Lucius seemed mystified as well. He pretended to laugh at the boy, though, and Bella laughed as well. The others joined in, as if it was a wonderful joke, but Bella was worried. How was Potter going to help anyone unless he knew what was happening? Had his excursion down here really been based solely on what Voldemort had shown him, the false impression that Bella’s cousin was being tortured down here? Were they that close?

Lucius must have been thinking the same thing. He spilled bits of information, and Bella hoped Potter was listening closely. It was a balancing act, trying to help these teenagers while maintaining their cover, but by acting cocky and arrogant they pulled it off. Finally, Potter shouted and the kids blew up the shelves and ran. At one point, Nott managed to snag Potter’s robes and Bella could only hope he’d get away. Then the girl with the bushy hair – Granger, she later learned from Draco – hit Nott with a spell and pulled Potter free.

Granger, Potter, and Neville pressed forward, and Lucius and Bellatrix tried to stay in front of the other Death Eaters, giving the group as much of a head start as they could manage without drawing suspicion. The three of them bolted through a door and magically locked it behind them. Bella pounded on it once, just for effect, and turned to Lucius, who began barking out orders. Malfoy ordered Yaxley to leave Nott, who was knocked out by Granger’s spell. He ordered everyone into pairs and for once Bellatrix was relieved to be partnered with her husband. She had worried that Lucius would try to partner with her, which would leave no one keeping an eye on any of the other Death Eaters. She could only hope Potter, Neville, and their friends could handle themselves.

She and Rodolphus caught up with the two red-heads and the blonde girl just half a step ahead of two other Death Eaters – Bella didn’t bother to see who. She threw one of the less harmful spells she knew at them and hit the boy, making him begin to giggle wildly. Then they were in a room full of planets, and Bella sighed inwardly. This was going to be a long night. The blonde blew up Pluto in the face of one of the others, and then pulled the other two kids to safety. Fortunately, gravity wasn’t stable in this room and Bella, by muttering a spell under her breath, managed to push the trio towards the far door with no one else being the wiser. That should give them a head start. Of course, she had no choice but to chase them. The group caught up with all six students two rooms later, and Bella was growing weary of the game.

 _‘Honestly, don’t you lot know how to head for the exit?’_ she thought.

By staying out front, Bella again managed to slow the others. If they complained later, she’d grumble that she still wasn’t herself after Azkaban, and Rodolphus and Rabastan would defend her, having been there themselves during the earliest stage of her recovery. She only just held back the group as Potter slammed the door in her face.

“Other ways in!” she heard Rabastan say before calling for back up. Bella was running on pure adrenaline, and struggled to catch her breath. Still, she kept up with the others and rounded to another door. They entered the Brain Room and Bella yelled at them to get Potter. But the boy she’d hit with the giggling charm distracted everyone on both sides. Bella watched in horror as he pulled a brain from the tank. It floated toward him, wrapping itself around him. Bella could feel her eyes widen, and the boy – Ron, Potter had called him – began to scream. Bella, unable to stand the sight of it, tried to throw a Stunning spell at the offending brain after Potter’s failed attempt to dislodge it. But Rodolphus jostled her in an attempt to better see what was happening and the spell went awry, hitting the red-haired girl in the face.

Neville was trying his best to attack them now, but his broken nose was inhibiting his spellwork dramatically. While the Death Eaters in her company sent Stunning spells at him, Bella hid her attempts to defend him under the chaos of their attacks. She made sure it looked good, but nothing hit her godson. When Potter made a dash for escape with the prophesy, Bella kept at his heels, praying the Death Eaters would prioritize Potter and leave Neville behind. The boy ahead of her was thinking along the same line, holding the prophesy up for all to see while he put on as much speed as he could manage. 

Bella was beginning to like this kid.

They entered the room with the veil, and Potter, apparently not realizing where he’d been going, went tumbling down the amphitheater that surrounded the dais. As they fanned out around her, the Death Eaters began to laugh at him. Bella tried to join in, be one of the gang, but she was horribly out of breath and was panting hard. She was still in no shape for this. Willpower alone kept her on her feet. Lucius took control again, and Bellatrix was grateful. She wasn’t sure she could speak at the moment. The boy tried to bargain, and Lucius shot the idea down. She wished it would have been believable to let everyone but Potter leave, but her brother-in-law was right; Potter was in no position to trade favors so far as the other Death Eaters were concerned.

Then Neville – her poor, sweet, brave, and apparently slightly stupid Neville – was there, proclaiming that Harry Potter was not alone. He was pinned quickly, but still tried again to jinx them through his smashed nose. He failed just as spectacularly as before. She traded a look with Lucius.

 _‘Play along,’_ she thought to him. _‘Let’s see what we can pull off. We’ve got no other choice.’_

He couldn’t get past her Occlumency, but with her hood removed, he was able to read her expression. The slight tilt of her head was one of their encoded messages. _Fake it._

Lucius called Longbottom by name, mocked him, and Bellatrix pretended to have only just realized who he was. She gave him her most cruel smile, told him she’d met his mother and father, and his reaction sold her as the villain far more effectively than she ever could’ve managed without him.

 _‘Forgive me, sweetheart,’_ she thought at him. _‘I wish I could tell you the truth right now, but I need you to hate me for the moment, or else we’ll both die here.’_

The Death Eater who held Neville Longbottom cried out for someone to Stun his struggling captive, but Bellatrix had to play along as surely as Lucius did. She had to put on the show, be mad for a while longer, and establish once and for all that it was nothing to her to harm these kids. She’d been slowing everyone down since they got here, and if she didn’t do something to show it wasn’t deliberate, they might figure her out. So she threatened to do to him what she’d been forced to do to Alice and Frank, hating herself for it, but seeing no other way out. But then, Yaxley did what Bellatrix had only threatened. The spell shot past Bella, missing her by less than an inch, and hit Neville. He collapsed, crying out in agony.

Bellatrix hid her revulsion by masking it with anger. “Yaxley, you idiot! D’you know how _close_ that came to me?”

“Oh, that’s just the first taste of things to come!” Yaxley giggled. Bella may have pretended to be crazy, but Yaxley actually was. The woman made no comment about Bella’s proximity to the Cruciatus Curse, but went on to threaten Potter. “Unless you want to watch him suffer and die, Potter, then give us what we came for!”

Bella was stuck. She didn’t know what else to do. Her eyes found Malfoy’s and saw no more hope in him than she felt herself. Potter was holding out the prophesy now, and Lucius hurried to take it from him. How they would get the information from it without Voldemort finding out, she didn’t know, especially since the Dark Lord was upstairs. But they had agreed – one step at a time. But before his fingers could close around the little orb, the doors at the top level of the room burst open and a host of fighters entered to defend Harry and Neville.

Lucius raised his wand instinctively, but Andromeda’s pink-haired daughter was fast. Her Stunning spell flew toward him and Bella had a split second to feel proud before she had to jump into the fray. Caught in the thick of battle, Bellatrix lost track of the kids. Maybe they would go back, find their friends and drag them to safety while the grown-ups fought. That’s what Lupin was yelling at them to do, and Bella quite agreed. She’d find a way to learn about the prophesy later. So instead of following the boys to retrieve it, she honed in on her niece, wondering if the girl could fight like her mother. Careful to cause no serious injury (a courtesy she knew Tonks would not return), Bella tested the younger Black woman. She was faster than Andromeda, but not by much. Her footwork was clumsy, but quick enough to keep her going. The two of them went at it for a while until Bella finally stunned Tonks to avoid being forced to do worse. She didn’t expect the girl to fall down the steps like Potter had, but her weight slid in that direction and Bella was too far away to catch her without drawing attention. With an effort, Bella managed to fix a look of triumph on her face and turned to take on someone else.

She was almost exasperated when it was another relative who rushed to meet her. Sirius Black, cousin, unregistered Animagus, and all around idiot – just her luck! This time, the others would be watching to see which of them actually _was_ the better fighter. She had to make this look real. She thought back, drawing up all the resentment she held toward him for abandoning his brother and prepared herself as best she could. She used her anger at him, channeled it, made it work for her…

And they fought.

He was good, but she knew she was better – she was holding back and he wasn’t, even though she was running on fumes and he was fresh to the fight. Then, as she hit him with nothing more violent than a basic Stunning spell, he fell backwards, laughing. She watched in despair disguised as glee as he went through the veil. Sharp realization stabbed at her.

She’d killed her own cousin…

Sirius, whom she’d disliked, distrusted, and reviled for his arrogance, but whom she secretly cared about just as much as Regulus… He was dead by her hand. And she had to pretend she was glad. Potter was screaming. He would be yet another boy to despise her while she protected him from afar. He freely displayed his disbelief, his grief, his rage, while she could not permit herself the same luxuries.

A man stepped forward to continue the battle Sirius had lost to her and she vaguely remembered his face from her research into the Daily Prophet. He was an Auror named Shacklebolt. He was an excellent fighter and Bellatrix was already exhausted. It took all her effort to keep up the battle. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw the old Auror, Moody, checking on her niece and reviving her. The Death Eaters had all been captured, including Lucius. For the briefest of moments, she caught his eye and he gave her one of their encoded signals – a small hand gesture the others would never notice.

_Run, Bellatrix! Get out of here!_

She didn’t need to be told twice. She knew the destination for the captured – Azkaban. She wasn’t sure she’d survive a return trip, and she still hoped to meet her daughter someday. She threw up a spell that went off like a firecracker in Shacklebolt’s face, knocking him back. Then threw every spare bit of energy she had into running.

She sped down the halls, toward the exit with her cousin’s godson hot on her heels and screaming for her death. She ducked through the Brain Room and cursed the tank, hoping the brains would slow him down, but Potter was quick on his feet. He levitated them into the air and slid through the potion they had been swimming in. She hurried toward the lifts and punched the button to go up. She slumped against the wall, trying to regain her strength before the doors opened at the Atrium.

She’d had to dodge quite a few of the spells aimed at her in the fight and she’d collided with more than her share of obstacles as well. In her weakened state, the effort had affected her more strongly than she would have liked to admit. Her ribs screamed for relief and her chest and throat were raw from her efforts to catch her ragged breath. Her feet weren’t absorbing the shock from running terribly well – she could feel the vibration from her heels all the way up her legs to her hips and up her spine. Her bones protested the relentless punishment, but her desperation to stay clear of the Dementors kept her moving. She took a glance over her shoulder, hoping that Potter had fallen behind, but he was still on her tail. She aimed a spell in his general direction, but was careful to make sure he had time to duck behind that disgusting fountain. She wasn’t interested in killing him. Her spell hit the opposite gate and she stopped cold in her tracks.

She didn’t have the energy to run any farther. She’d have to improvise until she caught her breath. Maybe she could Stun the boy, if she got a clear enough shot. Or use a full-body bind on him. Or use the giggling charm she’d used on his friend. For that, though, she’d have to draw him out.

And suddenly she remembered Voldemort. He would be nearby. He would be watching. She had to make this believable. She put on her mad persona and called for Potter, trying to mock him into showing himself. Perhaps she could still get the prophesy, still learn how to help him without anyone finding out… And perhaps she’d regain her weight overnight as well…

She wondered if this ghastly dance would ever be over.

“I thought you were here to avenge my dear cousin!” she called out, despising herself for baiting him this way, but unable to come up with another plan. He shouted back and she continued to ridicule him. What she didn’t expect, however, was for the child to attempt to use an Unforgivable curse on her.

He was obviously an amateur. It hurt for the barest of moments and knocked her already unstable feet from underneath her, but she was up, panting, and upset almost immediately. She didn’t want him to learn, but eventually, she knew, he would probably be forced to use that spell in battle. So she taunted him with its ineffectiveness, told him how he had to truly wish to cause pain and enjoy it. She offered to teach him, a practical demonstration, of course, because she knew Voldemort was watching, but when she cast the spell, she was careful to hit the statue, narrowly missing what any observer would’ve sworn was her true target.

She moved around the fountain, hoping to catch sight of him, make sure he was unharmed, bragging all the while about her superiority so that Voldemort would hear. He crept around and tried to hit her with a Stunning spell, but she heard him and deflected the blow. The light of his spell flew back at him, and he ducked again behind the statue.

She loudly announced that she would give him the opportunity to give her the orb containing the sought-after prophesy that everyone was so desperate to hear. In exchange, she promised, she’d spare his life. And he told her it was gone. A knot suddenly developed in her stomach. She had wanted the prophesy for herself, it was true, but she also knew she’d have to hand it over to Voldemort to save herself and the others from violent repercussions that would certainly be the answer to their failure. And the Dark Lord knew it was gone, knew it was the truth. And she did as well, even as she screamed at Potter that he was a liar and tried again to summon it.

It was Potter’s turn to mock _her_ , and he revealed his now-empty hand. That giggling charm had green light similar to that of the Killing Curse, so she threw it over his head, hoping Voldemort would believe she’d tried to destroy the child for him. She was also begging, really begging, for leniency with Voldemort. She couldn’t die before she met Sophia! The Dark Lord ordered her to be silent, but she continued trying to defend herself further by using Dumbledore’s presence below to explain her inability to attain what he’d sent her to retrieve. But he ignored her and moved to kill Potter.

Bellatrix watched, feeling more hopeless than she had since before she’d learned she had a daughter to live for. If Potter died now, would she ever be able to go home safely? She doubted it. But suddenly the statues came to life to defend young Harry and Dumbledore was there. The statue of the witch ran at Bellatrix. She panicked, shooting spells at it in a useless effort to protect herself, but the statue kept coming and pinned her down. In her prime, she might’ve been able to struggle free, but now she found herself trapped. She could do nothing but watch the fight between the two powerful wizards, Voldemort and Dumbledore, unfolded before her. But it only took a moment for her to shut her eyes.

Bellatrix wanted desperately to betray him then, to shout warnings to Dumbledore, but she knew what it would cost her. She shouted instead for Voldemort, cried out like the mad follower everyone believed her to be, hoping to distract him, thereby helping Dumbledore. She tried not to think about what would happen if they got away, just the two of them. Lucius would be unable to guard her this time.

Voldemort was using the boy like a puppet, hurting him in some way Bella didn’t quite understand, but then there came the echo of voices down the hallway. And just like that, it was over. Voldemort retreated, blasting away the statue that held her to the floor and Disapperated with her.

Bellatrix’s worst fears were confirmed from the moment he got her alone. He tortured her with the Cruciatus, screaming at her for her failure. His rage at the entire group was taken out solely on her. But it didn’t take long for him to realize that, in her current physical state, he would lose his most devoted follower (or so he believed) if he didn’t switch to another method of punishment. 

That was when he heaved her over his shoulder, carried her to his room, threw her onto the bed, and began to treat her like a cheap street whore. She didn’t bother to struggle. She was too tired to fight back, too injured from the rough night she’d just endured. The violence of this attack was the worst yet. He’d pause occasionally to berate her for her shortcomings, to strike her, and then pin her to the bed again. It was a cruel pattern. And this time, she felt she deserved it. Oh, she felt ill! It was all her fault! Her mind separated from what was happening to her body and she lost herself in a pain that Voldemort could never have inflicted.

Sirius was dead.

She’d killed him.

Andromeda would never forgive her.

~

It was long past dawn when he finally stopped.

Voldemort, apparently disgusted with her, dumped her unceremoniously on Narcissa’s doorstep the moment he was done with her. Cissy was distraught at the sight of Bella standing before her, robes torn open, bruised, beaten, and long past caring about how badly she was hurting. Narcissa had taken her eldest sister back to her room, tended to her as best she could. Bellatrix wondered if the contraceptive potion was still working. Peterson had told her it would last a few months, but didn’t give her a solid timeframe. She supposed it didn’t matter much.

Lucius, Rodolphus, Rabastan, Jugson, Nott, Crabbe, Macnair, Avery, Yaxley, Dolohov, Rookwood, and Mulciber had all been arrested, taken to Azkaban. But the Dark Lord was already winning the Dementors over to his side. It was just a matter of time. In fact, Lucius came home almost immediately. The real challenge came in settling Draco, who seemed to despise Harry Potter for the part he’d played in Lucius’s apprehension. Bellatrix and Narcissa were reluctant to draw him into the matter too far, hoping to keep him out of it at least until he graduated. However, when he returned home from school, he was told never to leave Bella alone with the Dark Lord.

That had confused him. He hadn’t been told about the baby or how it was conceived or killed for fear of his reaction. He was simply asked quietly to make sure that either he or his mother was present anytime Voldemort was around his aunt. Bellatrix worried that they would eventually have to tell the boy everything, but she tried not to think about it too much.

She lay in bed, tried her best to rest. Her mind kept finding Sirius.

She found herself remembering a time when they had gotten along. It was before Regulus was born, of course. Sirius and Narcissa had been about three, Andromeda had been five, and Bella had been seven. She remembered sitting with her sisters on the sofa and pulling him onto the seat with them, three little girls hugging their cousin. He had grinned at them back then, played with them… They’d been close.

Why had that changed? _When_ had it changed? It was a slow rift that had developed between them. And now she’d never be able to bridge the distance. Feeling morbid, she turned her thoughts to Andromeda, to her niece, to Neville. Would they ever believe her? Did Andromeda think Bellatrix had betrayed them?

She pulled out the picture of Sophia and the one of Neville as a baby, stared at them. She wished she had a picture of Harry Potter when he was just a toddler or younger. She wanted to see what those brilliant green eyes had looked like before the evils of the world had tainted them with knowledge.

“Mistress Bella?” came an unexpected voice.

Bellatrix sat up and found Kipsy standing with Nixie at the foot of her bed. Both elves looked concerned. Kipsy held in her hands a copy of the Daily Prophet and Nixie was trying timidly to present her with a tray of food. She gave them a weak smile, and started to get up.

“Oh, Miss Bella!” squeaked Nixie. “You is not needing to be out of bed! You is still hurt!”

“Don’t worry, Nixie, I won’t try to go downstairs,” Bella promised, moving to brace her hands on either side of the mirror that hung on the wall. She stared at her own reflection. Every inch of her was sore, but none so much as those places that Voldemort had injured _after_ he’d cursed her. Still, she made the effort to stand straight and then she faced and addressed the elves.

“I’ve got an idea,” she said slyly. “One he’ll never see coming.”

Kipsy and Nixie looked at each other. The worry had not left their faces. Bella pressed forward anyway.

“How would you two like to learn to fight?” she asked. “And then teach the elves at Hogwarts to do the same?”

“Wh-whatever for, Mistress?” Kipsy asked, mystified.

“Back up. An Elvin uprising against the Dark Lord the moment he tries to seize power… What do you think?”

The elves looked at each other again.

“Mistress is truly asking what we think?” Kipsy asked.

“The truth, yes.”

“I thinks Miss Bella is mad!” Nixie exclaimed, looking terrified, and immediately dropped the tray of food and clamped her little hands over her mouth. But Kipsy was grinning.

“Mistress Bella is crazy like a fox, Nixie!” she laughed. “Mistress Bella is brilliant!” Her little friend stepped forward bravely, leaving the younger, smaller elf trembling behind her. “Kipsy will learn, Mistress,” she said looking determined. “Kipsy will fight and make her Mistress proud!”


	12. Chapter Seven: Mission at Hand

Training Draco in Occlumency was easy. He was an apt student and diligent at practicing. While hardly the master that _she_ had become, he could defend himself from attack better than most beginners. He was quite eager to meet her expectations and surpass them. Bellatrix was proud of him.

Training Kipsy to fight was easy. The elf had picked up on hand-to-hand combat, swordplay (though she required a very small sword), archery, and knife fighting. She had learned some offensive and defensive spells that were not illegal for elves and which did not require a wand. She was tough and fast on her feet and a quick thinker. She adapted to strategy alteration and had no trouble at all with nerves, so far as her Mistress could tell. Bellatrix was proud of her.

Training Nixie not to panic during her lessons was like teaching a rock to swim.

The tiny elf fainted with such alarming regularity that it had become second nature to summon a pillow to catch her before she broke her head on the floor. After a month of this, Narcissa gently suggested that Nixie was simply not built for battle and that perhaps Bella should ask Kipsy to teach Kreacher instead. Bella had reluctantly agreed and when she’d told Nixie that she was no longer required to train for battle, the elf managed not to pass out from relief. So Bellatrix was (sort of) proud of her.

All the while, Bella was also training herself. The strict regimen of exercise and diet she’d maintained was simply not going to be enough. The battle at the Department of Mysteries had shown her that. She needed to recover faster and so, in spite of Narcissa’s concern, she disguised herself and went to St. Mungo’s to consult with a Healer. Unexplained weight loss, she’d called it when asked to elaborate on her problem. Then she’d told the Healer that it was only getting worse and that she couldn’t go on trying to manage it on her own. The Healer examined her gave her a number of potions that might help and she’d gotten back to Malfoy Manor in just under four hours. Lucius, who had not been home when she’d left for the hospital, scolded her harshly.

“You could’ve been caught!” he had snapped. “You’re supposed to be keeping your head down! Or are you _trying_ to get thrown back in with the Dementors?”

“I’m trying to lessen the effect they’ve already had on me,” she had replied, and he’d thrown up his hands and ordered his son to go practice his Occulmency in another room.

But it had been worth the risk. Bella’s weight had nearly doubled by the end of the summer. This, unfortunately, wasn’t saying much. But she was beginning to develop some musculature again; her figure was beginning to look less like a Halloween decoration. She found herself staring at her face in the mirror on a regular basis, wondering when it, too, would start to show signs of returning to its former appearance. No luck so far.

She also began to spar with anyone willing to have a go at her – in a predetermined setting, of course. She had to get her reflexes back up to par and she wasn’t willing to be caught slacking off. Lucius and Narcissa were her usual training partners, but Draco also sometimes joined in. And of course Kipsy had to spar with them in order to learn how to fight much larger opponents. Bellatrix found herself wondering if family time were spent in this way in any other households.

In spite of the benefits they were reaping from these hours-long sessions, Bella hoped the answer was no.

~

The most consistent thing about being a Death Eater, Bellatrix had decided, was that all of your nightmares were destined to eventually come true. This was certainly the case on the night Voldemort had come to Malfoy Manor and cornered them all at dinner.

For a moment, Bellatrix was certain he’d come to attack her again. She glanced at her plate, which was piled far higher than anyone else’s, and wondered if he’d notice this and think she was pregnant again. If he did, would he leave her alone? Somehow she didn’t think so.

But no, he glanced at her, raised his eyebrow a slight bit at the sight of her large dinner, and turned instead to her nephew. Draco looked startled and Bella caught his eye and tapped her temple once with her index finger.

_Occlumency, Draco._

He didn’t nod, but must have understood because Voldemort narrowed his eyes and glanced at her again. She smiled and pointed to her food. The message was clear enough: _Teach the boy Occlumency? Why would I bother? Mind if I continue; I’m starving! By the way, would you care for some?_ Looking a little irritated, he waved her off and she dove into her meal, deliberately making a show of it.

“I have a task for you, Draco,” Voldemort said in his low, creeping tone.

“A task?” Draco repeated. “For… _me_ , My Lord?”

Bella paused in her meal, stopped chewing the mouthful she’d already taken which had turned to ash on her tongue. She tried hard not to think of Regulus who had been the same age as Draco when he’d joined the Death Eaters – and not much older when he’d been murdered. Narcissa had lost what little color she possessed and Lucius had frozen in his seat.

“Does that surprise you?” the Dark Lord was asking the boy.

“Yes,” Draco said honestly. “I mean… My Lord, I’m still in school. What possible use could _I_ be?”

“So glad you asked, my boy,” Voldemort said. The undertone of his words sent a chill through the Malfoy household from which none of them were immune. “Hold out your arm.”

Draco looked uncertainly at his parents and aunt, but must have known that they would be unable to help him. He did as he was told, and Bellatrix sensed he was clamping down hard on his thoughts to prevent anything from escaping the hold he’d managed with his Occlumency. He refused to make a sound as the Dark Mark was seared into his flesh and he listened carefully to every word Voldemort said to him as he described the boy’s assignment.

“Can you complete this task for me, Draco?” Voldemort asked.

“Yes, My Lord,” he replied, for what else could he say?

There would be no shielding Draco now. He had to know everything. As Voldemort swept out of their house, having effectively ruined dinner at the very least, the Malfoys pulled their son close and nearly smothered him in their embrace. Narcissa was sobbing openly. Lucius looked ill. But Bellatrix had gotten up and was pacing, her mind racing, and trying to formulate some plan that might save her nephew.

“Fill him in,” she ordered the others after going to the window and making certain that Voldemort had Disapparated. “Tell him what’s been going on, what we’re doing, everything. Or else he’ll be walking in blind. We’ll warn them before the cabinet is fixed.”

“How?” Narcissa asked, still crying.

“The friend of a dead man will be sending another message, but this time to someone new as well as the original recipient,” Bella replied without further explanation. She snatched up her plate and started up the stairs. “Kipsy! Bring my drink, won’t you? And a plate for yourself! We’ve got work to do!”

“Bellatrix!” Lucius called after her, causing her to pause and turn. He locked eyes with her and continued delicately, “How much of… _everything_ are you comfortable with him knowing?”

Bella looked over her nephew, who stared up at her, frightened but curious. She paused, considering him. She unconsciously, momentarily allowed her hand to flutter over her belly. Finally, she replied softly, “I don’t like it, Lucius, but he’ll find out eventually, I’m sure… There’s nothing for it… Everything means everything. Go ahead and tell him.”

With that she began to ascend the stairs, her mind swirling. Her food no longer seemed appetizing, but she knew she had to eat. Maybe she could get some of it down anyway. Kipsy followed her and set up the desk in Bella’s room in their customary way – food on Bella’s left-hand side, quill and ink on her right, and Kipsy pulled up her stool on the other side of the desk so that they could work separately or together as needed.

“You know, Kipsy, Sirius and his friends made a map of Hogwarts years ago,” she sighed. “I wish I could get my hands on it. It would show us every nook and cranny of the whole school, including who is located where at any given moment…”

“How does Mistress Bella know that?” Kipsy asked.

“Regulus,” she replied. “He saw them with it, told me about it.”

“You miss them,” Kipsy said. “Masters Sirius and Regulus.”

“Yes.”

“Mistress Bellatrix,” the elf said, using her entire first name for the first time in decades. “We _will_ avenge our family.”

Bella looked at Kipsy, her best friend, and was suddenly struck by how very lucky she was. Kipsy seemed to read her mind and reached out for her hand. Bella took it, smiled at her, took in every inch of the elf’s face.

“I know you’re supposed to be a servant, you know,” she told Kipsy, her tone ironic. “But no matter how I try, I can’t seem to see you as anything less than an equal.”

“Kipsy is incredibly proud of her Mistress Bella,” Kipsy smiled back. “Now… Shall we set about the work of destroying our enemies, Mistress?”

~

_To Whom I May Trust,_

_I have written a letter such as this before. If you received my last message, I hope you will know the truthfulness of the information I have previously passed on._

_There is to be, later this school-year, an attack on Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. The time has not yet been determined._

_There is also a plot to kill the Headmaster,  
I shall write again when I have more detailed information. Please, be careful._

_Should I die, my most trusted friend shall write to you on my behalf._

_And for the record, the boy has no choice. He is as trapped as I am. He does not wish to be a murderer._

_~ The Friend of a Dead Man_

 

Bellatrix tried to imagine the faces of Dumbledore and her niece when they received these twin letters.

~

The last thing Bellatrix expected when she sent her letters was for one of the owls to come back with a reply.

She had been sitting by the fire, resting with Draco after a particularly grueling Occlumency lesson and commending him on his performance. He had been quieter than normal. She knew his parents had told him about the rapes and about her baby because, as she’d been working upstairs, she’d heard him bellow, apparently infuriated, “ _HE’S BEEN **WHAT**?!_ ” This outburst was followed by a number of very loud promises to “kill the bastard”. So far, though, he hadn’t brought it up to her. She was grateful because she had no idea what she would say to him if he began to ask questions, wasn’t sure she was ready to discuss it.

Narcissa and Lucius had just entered the room to join them, and they were all enjoying an evening drink together, like a normal family. It felt cozy, safe, and totally detached from the hell she’d been residing in for so very long. Bella was having one of those rare moments during which things almost felt right with the world.

She should have known it couldn’t last.

The mood was disrupted by the owl that flew through the window, dropped a letter in her lap and flew out again almost before she had time to register its appearance. Blinking, she put down her glass of wine and tore open the envelope. Just like that, her existence of intrigue returned, intruding with a vengeance.

 

_To the Friend of a Dead Man,_

_This letter has been enchanted so that it shall be visible only to myself and its intended audience; you. There is no need for concern over security._

_I have received both your letters and I am growing quite curious as to your true identity. However, I recognize that it would, of course, be quite rude of me to pry; and foolish to risk insulting the person who is attempting to make my job here easier._

_I am, quite frankly, glad to be hearing from you again. I have thought of you often through the years and feared that you, like your friend, had been killed._

_Another friend and I have found and destroyed two of the items you warned me of before, though I am sad to say that you were also quite right in your belief that there were – and are – multiple objects of a similar nature hidden about._

_While I cannot yet pretend to know which boy you speak of, I sense that his identity will become apparent in due time._

_I had hoped to meet you someday, but I know now that I shall never have that pleasure. I know this to be an odd request, but from the tone and tenor of your writings, I am guessing that you, being “trapped” as you say, have been somehow forced into the service of Voldemort. (That narrows the list of boys who may be trapped with you. If I am on the wrong track, please write back and let me know.) I know how unusual this will sound, but I need you to take the boy’s mother to Severus Snape. He can be trusted. Ask her to make him take an Unbreakable Vow to finish the job of killing me in the event the boy fails. My death is key to the plan in motion. I am placing my trust in you in regards to this, though most would call me a fool for doing so._

_I return to you what I feel is the most important sentiment included in your messages to me: Be careful._

_Yours Truly,_

_Albus Percival Wulfric Brian Dumbledore_

Bella let out a small, astonished laugh as she began to read the letter again. She ignored the Malfoys’ requests to fill them in and decided to use the back of the already-enchanted parchment to scribble a response and summoned a quill and ink.

_Dumbledore,_

_I shall tell you who I am, but without telling you who I am: We met once, you and I, at a dance club for people of our particular inclination when I was still your student. I was horribly embarrassed to be caught there by my teacher and was certain that you would inform my parents and cause me to be separated from those people whom I loved the most._

_You promised me discretion then, and, though I didn’t believe you at the time, I know now that you kept your word._

_It is for that reason that I am now agreeing to do as you ask. I will take my sister as soon as possible and put on the best possible show of it I can manage. That vile little traitor, Pettigrew, will be there, after all._

_Some part of me wants to ask you why you need this from me. But, as someone who has faced the loss of health, soundness of body, peace of mind, and who has faced the possibility of death on multiple occasions, I know that there are situations that demand extraordinary sacrifice. So instead I will only wish you luck on your next journey and great adventure._

_I have also secured one of the items in question, though I have not yet managed to destroy it. Most of the methods I can think of would either be ineffective or they have the potential to rebound on me, so I’m at a bit of a crossroads. But I’ll think of something, I’m sure._

_You should know that I have also sent a copy of the second letter to someone we both trust and I will send that person future letters as well. I made the mistake last time of limiting myself to only one external contact. I shall not fall victim to the same nearly-fatal error again._

_And, yes, I shall be as careful as I can be – without abandoning the safety of those I am attempting to protect._

_~ The Friend of a Dead Man_

 

It was the best she could do. She went upstairs, found a nondescript owl, and sent it off with the letter.

There was no further written reply, but the owl returned later that night, while she and Kipsy were hard at work at the desk, with a phoenix feather in its beak. Bellatrix took the bright red trinket and pulled a box out of her backpack. She carefully placed it inside the box which already held her photographs of Sophia and Neville.

“Mistress Bella?” Kipsy ventured cautiously. “What does it mean? The feather?”

“I think we’ve just been inducted into the Order of the Phoenix.”

She stood, stretched. It was late and long past time she got to bed. She only wished the other side was being warmed by the love of her life. And she wouldn’t have objected if a small dark-haired child were tucked between them, safe and warm.

~

The next evening, the sisters set out on their mission.

Bellatrix and Narcissa had carefully played their roles from the moment they Disapparated to visit Severus Snape. They had no idea where Wormtail might be lurking, and if he were in rat form they might never see him. So Bellatrix made it look as if she were trying to stop Narcissa, trying to convince her to distrust Snape. Snape –whether he knew the roles they were both playing or not – gave no indication of such. Bellatrix made certain to bait him, question him. She even let him respond in a way that made him seem smarter than she was, allowing him to appear superior to her in an effort to make him overconfident. The whole time, she listened carefully, searching for some hole in his answers that would allow her to really trust him as Dumbledore seemed to. But there was nothing. The sisters slowly manipulated the conversation towards an Unbreakable Vow, and Bella, knowing that Wormtail had probably crept back to the door to eavesdrop by now, made certain to control her expressions, carefully crafting her reactions.

By the time Bellatrix and Narcissa got home to Malfoy Manor, it had begun to rain. Bella paused as the water ran down her face, soaking her cloak, her robes, her skin, and she brushed her wet hair back and turned her face to the sky. A step or two ahead of her, Narcissa paused, looking back at her.

“Bella?”

“Do you ever wonder, Cissy,” Bella said quietly. “If the rain is really just the world’s way of crying?”

Narcissa blinked, her eyes soft, and held out her hand to her sister. “Sometimes tears are cleansing,” she finally replied.

Bella smiled weakly and used the outstretched arm to pull her sister into a close embrace.

“I love you, Cissy… No matter what happens, remember that.”

They entered the house together and found Draco waiting for them by the door. He looked anxious and hurried to meet them.

“Mum, Aunt Bella,” he began, and his mother replied before he could ask the question.

“He took the Vow,” she said and the teenager’s face looked relieved. He had no desire to kill Dumbledore or anyone else.

“But be careful of him, Draco,” Bella warned, and the tension returned. “And make him think you’d quite like to reject his assistance.”

“But…” Draco said, confused. “I thought you said Dumbledore trusts him.”

“I did,” she said. “And he does. But the Dark Lord trusts him as well. Only Snape knows where his loyalties truly lie. And he isn’t the only one you should beware of, either. I know they’re your friends, but Crabbe and Goyle aren’t terribly clever. They may give you away by mistake. You must go into this as if you are proud to have been given the assignment, perhaps brag a little, and talk about how you’ve been trusted to do it on your own. Act a bit cocky. That should keep them out of your way, and don’t give anyone any details. Just say that you’ve got a mission to prove yourself. A few half-hearted attempts at Dumbledore would help your case in the event that Snape is serving the Dark Lord as well. Then, at least, he’ll think you’ve tried. But remember what I told you, Draco; call on Kipsy when the cabinet is finished. Give her a chance to warn me. Count to a hundred if it helps. And contact the Dark Lord last. Remember, there will be a fight. I don’t know what will happen. But Snape must be the one to finish the second part of your task.”

“What will that mean for us?” he asked. “With the Dark Lord?”

“We’ll lose favor,” Bella told him. “Or _more_ favor, I suppose. That fiasco at the Ministry did quite a bit of damage already. Your father getting rid of his diary hurt us too. But we won’t need to be in a high position of favor for the end game. In fact, it may help us if he thinks we’re struggling to regain his trust, willing to do anything. But that’s _my_ part of the planning. You just concentrate on your own mission. I’ll fill you in on anything I discover that may be pertinent. I promise.”

Draco sighed, took her hands, and put on a worried expression – worry for _her_ – and he looked so much like Narcissa in that moment that it made Bella’s heart stop. “You shouldn’t be working as hard as you do,” he said. “You’re not up to full strength _or_ up to a proper weight. You’re just going to wear yourself down again if you keep going on this way. You need to rest.”

She smiled at him, cupped his face in her hand, and kissed his forehead. “You are your mother’s child,” she whispered. “Don’t worry about me. I’m not so helpless as all that.”

“I wish you could see me off at the train, Aunt Bella,” he sighed, hugging her.

“Me too,” she said. “Perhaps next year... But I’ll be sure to be awake before you leave, all right? Now, I think it’s time to practice our Occlumecy.”

Draco looked her over, and then down at his newly soaked shirt. “Perhaps we should dry off first. We’re turning the foyer into a swimming pool.”

~

Draco and Narcissa returned from their school shopping trip to Diagon Alley looking weary. Draco took his things directly upstairs and began to pack his trunk to go to Hogwarts while his mother marched straight for the bar and dug out the Firewhiskey. Neither of them spoke a word.

“Hey, now!” Bellatrix called out to her. “It’s not healthy to drink alone, you know.”

“Then come get a glass.”

Bella obliged her and took the drink. She downed a sip and then watched Narcissa drain her glass and pour herself another. That wasn’t like her.

“Was it that bad, Cissy?” she asked softly.

“Oh, let’s see,” Narcissa said bitterly. “The Potter boy and his friends walked into the robe shop while we were there and we had to pretend we hated them so as to keep up appearances. In fact, for a moment, I thought we were going to have to duel one another. Draco managed to make them think he’d given me the slip and got them to follow him under that invisibility cloak of Potter’s to Knockturn Alley, so that part of the plan worked out. But we have no idea how much of the conversation they overheard.”

“Sounds like everything went well enough, considering,” Bella replied gently. “So why are we knocking back shots of the strongest Firewhiskey in the house?”

“I’m not ready for this, Bella,” Cissy said, nearly choking. “I’m not ready for my baby to enter this war and I’m not ready to face the possibility of losing him.”

“You never will be,” Bellatrix told her. “You aren’t _supposed_ to be. It’s a trial by fire for all of us. Cissy, we’ve prepared him to the best of our ability all summer long. But sooner or later, he’s got to stand on his own. And he won’t be happy until he does, either.”

“I know,” Narcissa said, staring down at her drink.

“Really, Cissy,” Bella said softly, reaching out to brush back her sister’s long blonde hair. “Did you want him to remain a child forever?”

“Sort of,” Cissy replied with a little shrug and they both laughed.

“Perhaps you and Lucius should think of having another baby, then.” Bellatrix had only been teasing, but Narcissa’s expression became truly contemplative. Then Bella thought of Sophia, getting older, growing up, leaving to get married, and, just like that, Narcissa’s empty nest syndrome was contagious.

 _‘Suddenly,’_ Bella thought. _‘I think I know why Henry and Sorena Morgan had thirteen children…’_


	13. Interlude Five: Secret Projects

Bellatrix had started working on a few separate projects to fill the hours during which she had grown accustomed to training her nephew in Occlumency. She had even enlisted Narcissa’s help in order to keep her sister busy – and away from the Firewhiskey – and she’d sent a slightly cryptic letter from the Friend of a Dead Man to Dumbledore, asking for pictures of the sword of Gryffindor. She worked tirelessly to make as perfect a rendition of the blade as she could manage and the goblin-made sword was slowly duplicated and stored under her bed over the course of the next six months.

Voldemort had, as she’d suspected, been familiar with the Sword of Gryffindor, and knew that it could now destroy his Horcruxes, having been used to kill the Basalisk in the Chamber of Secrets. She knew that, sooner or later, he would order someone to try and retrieve it and she would be ready.

Meanwhile, she and Narcissa (who was a far better Potion-maker than Bella) were working on a project to help Frank and Alice Longbottom. Bella knew that there was no turning back the clock, but she hoped that by the time the war was over, she could at least lessen the extent of the damage she’d done to them in her attempts to protect them. They tested their potions on spiders and rats. Bella wished they could use snakes so that she could at least symbolically take out her frustrations on Voldemort, but if one got loose and happened across his path it might warn him of their treachery.

The secret sub-basement in which they worked was cold and rather dark, and Bella found that she had not gained back enough weight, did not have enough fat, to keep herself warm in the dungeon-like lab. Narcissa, it seemed, was hard-pressed to stomach the necessary torture of the animals, but tried to remain stoic.

“You know that we can’t cure them, don’t you?” she asked Bella one day. “You’re not holding yourself to unreasonable expectations, are you?”

“No,” Bella replied sadly. “I don’t even know that I’ll be able to make any improvement to their condition at all. I just need my godson to know that I tried, that I didn’t give up on them. Neville and his grandmother need to see that they’re not the only ones who care. Even if all I can do is pass on our notes and trial potions… Well, it’s a place for the next generation to start if we fail, isn’t it?”

“I suppose,” Narcissa sighed, taking a whiff of the boiling cauldron. “Is it just me or does this smell like sardines?”

“Mixed with overcooked mushrooms,” Bella agreed. “Not sure I want to know what it would taste like…”

“If we manage to pull this off, who do we use for the human trial?” Narcissa wondered. “I mean, are Frank and Alice to be the first?”

Bella paused, considering that. She’d been pondering the same question for a while, but hadn’t wanted to say anything. “Well,” she murmured, her head downturned, but her eye catching her sister’s and dancing with amusement. “There’s always the Dark Lord…”

“Oh, be reasonable!” Narcissa scoffed, but Bellatrix saw her stifle a laugh as well.

“You’re right,” Bella agreed. “If we managed to torture _him_ to an incapacitating madness, we’d never be forgiven for trying to heal him.”

Just as Narcissa began to laugh, there was an explosion. They both jumped, the lab filled with a bright orange smoke, and the two sisters had to evacuate, coughing.

“So much for _that_ attempt,” Bella choked out. “What happened?” 

“Too much Dragon’s Breath, I think,” Narcissa replied, her eyes watering. “Guess we’ll have to let the smoke clear out before we can inspect the damage.”

“Back to the drawing board again.”

“Have you eaten today?” Cissy asked suddenly. Bella hadn’t, but didn’t want to admit this to her sister.

“Depends,” she said evasively. “What day is it?”

Narcissa eyed her, unfooled. “Bellatrix Ursula Black – ”

“God, Cissy,” Bella let out an exasperated sigh. “You really _do_ sound like Mother when you say that! And that’s not a compliment, so you know!”

“With you and Draco pushing your limits the way you both do, I’m likely to die of heart failure!” Cissy retorted. “So I don’t much care _who_ I sound like! If you don’t start taking care of yourself – ”

“I know,” Bella replied. “You’re right. We’ll go up and grab a bite while the dust settles from this last batch.”

Kipsy and Nixie prepared them some brunch and Narcissa kept insisting that Bellatrix didn’t have enough on her plate. So by the time they actually sat down to eat, Bella had enough food for three people and she knew she’d be expected to eat it all.

She also didn’t miss the way Kipsy and Narcissa winked at each other when it was placed in front of her…

**Author's Note:**

> Comments are welcome, guys! The kudos are great, but hearing which bits people like best gives me an indication of what to give everyone more of. Plus, I just plain enjoy feedback.
> 
> Thanks for reading!


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